


Glory & Gore

by Brooklyn_Knight



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: OTP: Fight me, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brooklyn_Knight/pseuds/Brooklyn_Knight
Summary: "The first time I met you, I hated you. The first time you saved me, I admired you. And the first time I left you, I knew I loved you." As a child, Bjorn did not like Sassa Flokidottir. She was older, taller, louder, and better then he in battle. And yet without meaning to, he fell in love with her, long before he knew what love was. Bjorn/OC





	1. 1x01 : Prologue

I take a boat all year long  
And there's monsters that are chasing me all day long  
But I ain't afraid of where the wild things are  
I go to where the wild things are

Patrick Watson : Where the Wild Things Are

* * *

**Glory & Gore  
**

**Rites of Passage**

**Prologue**

* * *

"Where are we going?" Bjorn, a boy of twelve years, followed his father through the thick forest, in a direction he was sure was not their home.

"We have someone special to visit." His father had told him when he asked for the fifth time. The day Prior, they had gone to village of Kattegat, the center of their people's clan where a Thing had been gathered. There Bjorn had become a man with his sworn oath to Earl Haraldson, their chieftain, and received a an arm ring as a symbol of that oath. But on the return to their smaller farmlands outside the village, Ragnar had changed their course and led them deep into the forest. "His name is Floki." He informed as they trekked down a steep hill.

"Floki? Like Loki the god?"

"Yes, only different."

Bjorn tried not to slip on the slick moss-covered rocks as he asked, "How is he different?"

"He's not a god." Bjorn could hear the smirk in his father's voice. Stumbling the last few steps, he steadied himself on the flatter forest ground. Ragnar tapped his son with his walking stick, directing him to follow the path of the old riverbed they had entered.

"Why didn't he come to the thing?" Bjorn had assumed all of the Earl's men were eager to attend the meeting. But Floki was not most men. In fact, he cared little for the earl, and even less for the politics and inhabitants of Kattegat.

"Because..." Ragnar looked up to the trees above and found a flash of light brown cloth moving behind the branches. "Because he's shy." He limply replied.

At Ragnar's pause, Bjorn became distracted by his father and thus did not see the leaves shake and fall in warning. Suddenly a girl fell from a tree branch at the top of the hill before them. Sliding down the hill with surprising grace, she stopped to seemingly catch her breath. Her green eyes wide with fear, she looked around the woods frantically. Bjorn stepped back towards his father as the girl stepped closer. "Run!" She ordered "It will catch you!"

Seeing a larger figure crouch down at the top of the hill in wait, Ragnar remained silent as he observed his son. Bjorn's back straightened, possibly in an attempt to look more menacing, or perhaps just to lean away from the wild girl. "What?" There was a bit of worry to his voice as his brows furrowed.

"I can not speak its name." She whispered to them. "It is forbidden." She put on great theatrics. "Not even the gods dare speak it in fear of Odin's wrath. He hates the creature so much, that once it catches you, no matter how hard you fight, or how you die, you can never, ever, go to Valhalla!"

Bjorn swallowed his fear and looked to his father. In good spirits Ragnar straightened as if alarmed, his eyes widened to match the girl's.

"It's coming. It's coming!" She grabbed at his shirt and gently shook him before pushing away from him and quickly ascended the closest tree.

Bjorn looked upwards towards the girl when he should have been looking towards his left. Their plan had worked, and distracted, Bjorn did not notice the figure growing closer until it leapt from the woods and yodelled threateningly. Bjorn nearly fell in how quickly he stepped back. Behind him, his father smiled as the girl and man in the wooden mask began to give hearty laughs.

To his credit, Bjorn recovered quickly and though on guard, stepped up once more. His wide eyes were the only sign he was uncomfortable. The man took off his unsettling moss covered mask. And Bjorn, who was scared of very little, found himself unnerved by the dark streaks of coal he kept around his eyes and down his cheeks.

"Floki." Ragnar greeted. "Involving your sweet daughter in your foolery now?"

Floki's face flashed a cruel smile. "Don't be fooled by her pretty face, Ragnar. She is as sweet as a spoiled eel." He looked upwards toward his daughter with a fond glare. The girl glared back with a slightly more serious expression. It was not _her_ that had concocted their prank...

"Hello, Sassa." Ragnar nodded courteously towards the girl. A kind smile was on his face, knowing that it was her father that made her partake in the trick. He had met the girl a handful of times. A good dutiful daughter, she was much more serious than her trickster father, often helping him in his work, reminding him to eat, hunting the forest for their meals.

At fifteen years she was still a flat young thing with little breasts and no hips for child bearing. Her face was a beautiful one, but with no signs of being able to have strong sons she was left void of marriage proposals. That was fine with her and her father. She was quick, in speed and wit, and though she may not have the strength of a shieldmaiden, Sassa held value above just baring children. Ragnar saw something rare in her. Lithe, fearless, and with steady aim, there was never a child, woman, or man, as fast and true with a bow than her. Ragnar saw great potential in her. But he was not her father, nor her husband, and thus he had little say in the girls upbringing. He could only hope that once she came of age to be her own free woman she would seek out a shieldmaiden such as his wife to train her. Until then, he could only pity the pretty girl, half blessed and half cursed by the gods. **  
**

"Hello, Ragnar." Though her face appeared passive, a mischievous smirk briefly graced her face as she caught the eyes of the boy glaring up at her from below.

"This is my son, Bjorn." Ragnar introduced him. Bjorn was a short boy a few years younger than herself. From where she stood she saw little of Ragnar in him. His hair was of a much lighter shade of blonde than his fathers, shaved close to the scalp past the crown of his head in the traditional way of young boys. Like his hair, his skin was also much lighter than his fathers, with no visible sign of scars from battle. And while he was not an ugly boy he did not seem to benefit from his father's charming looks. Sassa wondered what his mother looked like as she further glanced him over. His partially squat build had the possibility to grow tall and broad like his father, but it appear it would happen no time in the near future as the boy still retained childish features. Despite his harsh gaze, he held the round and thick face of a child. The roundness of such face seemed to only enhance the similarly round ears that protruded from either side of his head.

"He has funny ears." Sassa spoke up from above.

It was that moment Bjorn had firmly decided he did not enjoy the presence of the girl.

His father had sometimes made fun of his ears, in fact it was not more than two days ago that he had called him a handsome boy (sans his ears) in jest. But the girl above was not rewarded with the same smile he gave his father. Son of Ragnar glared the most intimidating glare he could at her. It did not affect her. So childishly, and without manners, Bjorn tried to even the score.

"You have funny eyes." He clumsily shot back. When she stared at him wide eyes, plotting her trick, he had noticed that one of her eyes was marred with a large brown spot. As if mud had been thrown in them. Sassa nearly sighed at the pathetic comeback as the fathers turned away to hide their amusement at the bickering children. Floki stared up at his daughter waiting, while Ragnar hid his grin in the crook of his arm.

"True..." Sassa seemed thoughtful. And for a moment Bjorn thought she was going to apologize. Instead a wide grin stretched her face. "But not as funny as your ears." Said ears, turned a bright pink at their rounded tops. She laughed at his expense. Ragnar smiled fondly up at her before putting his hand on his son's shoulder. Bjorn's glare burned brightly until he felt his father's hand gently clap him.

Sassa's father watched his daughter carefully, a glimmer of pride in his eyes before turning his attention back to the boy. "Hello. How are you?" Floki took a much kinder approach.

"Well. Thank you, sir." Though he did not much care for his daughter, Bjorn remained polite to the boat builder as his father and mother had taught him.

"Let me see." Floki called for the boy's attention as he shuffled closer. His coal blackened hand grabbed Bjorn's face, tilting his head to catch the light. Floki studied him for a moment his head tilting in thought. "You have your father's eyes...unfortunately." He seemed sympathetic. Bjorn's face tensed into a firm expression, his eyes slightly narrowing as he believed the man to be mocking him as his daughter had.

"Why unfortunately?" His father asked curiously.

The boat builder's lips curled in the lightest of teasing smiles. "It means he will be like you, and therefore he will want to do better than you, and you will hate him for it."

Ragnar waited a moment before raising his stick as if to hit him in jest. Floki backed away with a childlike giggle.

Having just recently seen his father request answers from the Seer, Bjorn was in slight disbelief that this man could see their fate, too. "How can you tell that by just looking at my face?"

"It's the same with trees. I can tell which trees will make the best planks just by looking at them. I can look inside the tree."

"Floki is a boat-builder." Ragnar simply explained to the still confused boy. He spared a withering look towards the other man, as for as long as he had known Floki he had always been an eccentric. "Among other things." Like a trickster. And a warrior. And a fool...

Floki's body seemed to relax, limply he stood, his back arched slightly, to stare up at the trees that surrounded him. Bjorn watched with bated breath as his body seemed to tense before he walked over to the tree across from the one his daughter was perched on.

"This is one. Inside this tree are two almost perfect planks. They will bend, then curve, like a woman's body from the thighs to the back." Floki caressed the wood, almost apologetically before he took out his axe and chopped low into its trunk. The merciless chops enough to do much damage, but just enough to mark it for when he came searching for it again. "When I split this tree I will find them."

"You can see that?" Bjorn's voice was disbelieving.

Sassa sighed through her nose and silently moved on. Bjorn was once more cornered under the boat builder's wild gaze. "Do you think I'm joking?" Floki stepped close to Bjorn, his voice a low and calm whisper that belied a possible wrath. Bjorn did not know how to answer, so he did not. Instead he held the mask Floki had worn close to his chest, his fingers digging into the mossy wood tightly. "I joke about many things, Son of Ragnar, but never about ship-building. Do you imagine ships are just dead things?" His face twisted up in disgust at the boy.

Bjorn wanted to look to his father for guidance but felt he was being tested. Slowly he shook his head no. Floki's face twisted up into one of slight amusement. It appeared he had passed.

"So…" Ragnar caught Floki's attention. It was time to get down to business. "What about our boat?"

"Yes. Yes. Come on." Floki hopped over a large fallen log and left into the thick trees. Ragnar looked to the tree above where Sassa had been only to find her gone. An amused smile touched his lips. Her father was right. She was a silent little mouse...

* * *

As Floki lead them to their remote home on the forest edge, Bjorn studied Sassa much in the way she had studied him. She was a very pretty girl, with skin lightly tanned from all her time outside that seemed to make her green eyes more pronounced. Green. Not blue. Bjorn hadn't seen green eyes often, and if he wasn't so angry at her he might have asked her if her mother had them too. Her brown hair caught the sun, revealing streaks and thin lines of gold between the small braids that kept her long hair from her face. When the trees began to thin and she could no longer jump from one to another she had finally joined them on the ground with a longbow not much smaller than herself and a sack wrapped over her shoulder, revealing that she was indeed slightly taller and probably older than him. His eyes briefly glanced over her body in a purely curious factual assessment. Her limbs were long and slender with light muscles in her arms but little roundness in her hips or breasts. Bjorn let himself fall behind to join his father, and quietly asked why, if older, she did not look like other women.

Ragnar informed him that she was indeed three years older than he, but that the gods had yet to bless her. That is all he needed to know, as it was not his business. But Bjorn wanted to know more. So he asked why she was not yet married if she was of age. Perplexed, Bjorn offered the only solution he could think of. "Do they think she is ugly?"

Ragnar looked at the girl that walked some hidden path with her father before them. "Do _you_ think she is ugly?"

Bjorn's ears turned a bright pink. "No." His father graced him with a smile. Sassa was indeed a beautiful girl, taking mostly after her mother, thank the gods.

"Not yet grown enough a woman to bear a child. Not yet strong enough a warrior to fight a battle." Ragnar seemed sympathetic to the girl as he watched her father try to push her into a bush before she took off running ahead. She seemed to be happy here. But Ragnar saw sadness in her when they would cross paths in the village. Like him, and her father, she was destined for more things than tending to a house and father in the woods. He saw his own daughter in her. And some days he feared what would happen if her father was to die before she had found a husband or a purpose. "She is... _stuck_." Ragnar summarized. Bjorn looked saddened, having picked up on the somberness of Ragnar's new somber tone.

But Ragnar did not like his children to worry. Worry and sadness were not meant to mar a child's face. Quickly he corrected himself. "Why? Are you thinking of finding a wife already?" He teased. It had been just yesterday he had become a man under the Earl's order. The shining bracelet on his arm proved that.

"No." Bjorn's ears went ever redder. Ragnar was suspecting Sassa may have found the boy's weakness. Clapping him on the back, he pushed him ahead, into the small clearing that held in it, Floki and Sassa's home. Sassa deposited her bow and arrows and emptied the sack she carried to reveal various berries and a rabbit. Grabbing the rabbit she followed her father to his workshop by their dock. She paid no mind to either of the Lothbroks as her father chattered on. Her sole focus was sharpening a knife to begin skinning the rabbit and save the hide. Besides her, Bjorn explored the tools and tables of a carpenter.

Their fathers paid them no mind.

"It will be lighter and carry a bigger sail." Floki enthusiastically told Ragnar as the smaller man stroked the finely smoothed wood of the frame."The construction is different." He reassured at Ragnar's curious eyes. "It's built with a strong central plank. The two stakes above it are nailed directly onto the knees of the frame. But the ones below - look!" Floki pointed to the planks. "-are cleated and latched onto the frames, so they can move in relation to each other. This means the boat won't butt against the waves like a goat," he hit his hand with a closed fist. "-but move over them like a ripple." His hand evenly glided through the air steadily.

"The hull is deeper." Ragnar noted with some trepidation. "How will my men set their oars?"

"I will cut them into the sheerstrakes, and the ports can be closed when the boat is at sea."

Sassa glanced up at her father fondly as she ripped the rabbit of its pelt. He had worked tirelessly on the design and base construction of this boat. And she felt as if seeing Ragnar's pleased smiles were everything he could ask for. A hand came close into view, and her attention was redirected to the boy beside her that touched her father's small statue. If there was one thing her father took more seriously than boat building it was the gods themselves. She struck his hand without mercy. Bjorn pulled it back and glared at her chastising glower. "Do not touch things you don't know, stupid boy." Her father believed himself to be very close to the gods. He took his tributes seriosuly and Sassa would not have the boy fiddling with them like a toy. Bjorn was only curious as to the small statue. Made of clay it held small bones in it's eyes and mouths and seemed to be coated by a thick layer of dried blood. Like Floki's coal covered eyes and mask, he could not place why, but he was unnerved by it. He walked away from her then, keeping his narrowed stare as he went to his father.

"And you think it could handle long sea voyages?"

"That's why I'm building it." Floki gleefully chuckled.

But not all men could be as joyous as the boat builder. Ragnar crouched on top of the table in which the base rested and looked into his eyes with all seriousness. ""But will it be strong enough?"

Floki sobered as well. "We won't know that until we try."

Ragnar sighed and sat in the boat as he would if it were finished. Hands holding onto the finished plants, he looked out into the ocean. He could feel the waves showering them, the wind of the sea, and in his imagination, a vision of land appearing with untold treasures and new explorations.

They were so close.

A vigor of new excitement coursed through him. "When will it be ready?"

Now it was Floki's turn to dampen spirits. "Uh, as to that..." He looked sorrowfully at the ground.

"What?" Ragnar slapped his back, eager to listen.

"We're out of money." Floki looked up at him with a cringe. Ragnar was not amused, not that he should be, and looked over Floki in question to explain. Both Floki and he had but a grand amount into the building of this ship, Ragnar more than the carpenter. To hear it was all gone, so close to winter, and yet unable to complete the one vessel they needed to replenish their supplies... it filled him with annoyance and bitter rage. Floki saw the look of cold disbelief, a challenge to change his answer, on Ragnar's face. He explained, "We have to pay for the sail and the anchor... you know what those blacksmiths are like." Floki spit to the side. "Greedy bastards."

Ragnar looked into the wide expanse of the cove once more. With a heavy heart he reached into his wool over shirt and pulled out a small pouch. "For the anchor. It's all I have left from last summer's raids." It was all he had left to give. If it was not enough... he dared not to think what would happen to him and his family come winter.

"Don't worry. We'll soon be as rich as dwarves! Hehehe" Floki giggled.

"Come, Bjorn." Ragnar called for his son. The warrior patted Sassa's head fondly as he passed.

The girl and Bjorn shared one final look of contempt as they parted ways.


	2. 1x02-3 : Such Little Faith

This would be a pure disaster  
Life spent on the surface for you  
I need the waves  
The deep escape

Data Romance : The Deep

* * *

**Glory & Gore  
**

**Chapter 2:  
**

**Such Little Faith  
**

* * *

"I miss the quiet." Sassa commented as she sharpened a new tip for her arrow. Her gaze wandered to the longboat her father had completed a mere month after Ragnar and Bjorn's appearance. Their normally quiet home was a flurry of noise and shouted orders as the men Ragnar planned to take with them packed the supplies. There was only one good thing Sassa could think of on this day. It could be worse.

No families came to see them off. No wives kissed their husbands with promise of faithfulness and no children begged their fathers to return soon. This voyage was meant to be in secret, and with it, all those apart of it had sworn their lives to keep it so. Sassa turned to her own father.

While they were not an overly affectionate relationship, she knew that her father loved her deeply. They did not share the fond memories of hide and seek and bedtime stories that Ragnar shared with Gyda. If anything Floki often treated her more as an apprentice than a daughter. Teaching her the ways of the world, the boats, and the gods, preparing her for a life beyond their humble and secretive home at the water's edge.

But still he was a father. And as such, he understood the powers the mere idea of the loss of a child could incite in a man. For this reason he knew exactly how to bend the blacksmith to his will.

Floki paid little attention to his daughter as his eyes ran over his ship time and time again, a clear sign of his thoughtfulness the lock of hair he twirled in his hand. It was long and pale blonde, and Floki could not help but think it was much coarser than the fine hair on his own daughter's scalp. Like that of a newborn babe, Sassa's hair had always been a thin soft blanket of braided strand that he would run his hands through when she was sick as a child. A comfort more to himself than her, if he were to be honest. Even now the soft hair brought him some comfort in stressful and impatient times, so a braided lock of it was fastened with leather into an arm ring that rested below the one that pledged his loyalty to Earl Haraldson.

When he remained silent, she looked up, and seeing his focused gaze, she assumed doubt had once more entered his thoughts.

"It's a nice boat." She reassured.

His twirling of the hair stopped, his eyes furrowed as if insulted. "Nice?" While Floki usually had a soft, almost musical voice, it could quickly become sharp and nearly shrill when insulted or angered. Like a goat, Sassa mused.

The girl rolled her eyes. "It is a vessel so beautiful Thor and Odin themselves will beg you to make their entire fleet once you reach Valhalla." She coated her words with sickening sweetness though her face remained the same passiveness. She returned to her carving for only a moment before she quickly added. "Just try not to meet them so soon." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her bowed head raising when Ragnar appeared, a sharpened knife held to her father's throat as Ragnar stepped behind him.

"Where is my anchor?" He spoke lowly.

Her father remained calm, amused almost as the corner of his lips twitched. "It was promised for today."

"Maybe your blacksmith is a liar."

Floki looked down at the lock of hair. "Oh I don't think so." He turned to Ragnar with knowing eyes. "This hair is from his daughter's head." Ragnar was the father of a daughter himself. He too knew the motivation that came from the need to protect your child, especially a daughter. "I promised him that if he went to Earl Haraldson I would find a way to kill her." Her father laughed the high soft laugh he so often did when pleased with himself. Ragnar lowered his knife. He nodded to Sassa who nodded back. She resumed her task at hand. With her father gone it would be up to her and their slave, a young woman named Tyra just a few years older than herself, to keep the house and food in order.

"I still don't see Knut." Ragnar tapped the flat of his knife against his thigh impatiently.

"Well, that's because he isn't here." Ragnar's tapping stopped at Floki's troubling words. "He hasn't sent word either."

"That troubles me."

"We live in a sea of troubles." The boat builder dismissed.

"Well look, some have ended." Sassa nodded behind them to the cart that appeared from the faint trail in the woods.

"Here, this is yours." Floki tossed the lock of hair at the blacksmith. " _And this_ is _mine_." With a large heave he picked the anchor up from the wagon and walked it down to the boat. Sassa's gazed followed her father, worry and sadness in her eyes.

"Do you have such little faith in me?" A calm voice spoke into her ear. Sassa turned to see Ragnar's otherworldly blue eyes. The man was rumored to be a descendant of Odin himself. Sassa felt inclined to believe him when his eyes sparked so knowingly, a blue truer than the ocean and sky themselves.

"Floki says you have a new way to navigate." She did not call her father by title but by name, a habit she developed when she was younger and acting as his apprentice in the company of others, a habit he never bothered to correct. "What is it?"

Ragnar's head tilted in thought, his blue eyes boring into hers with an intensity that might make weaker men flee. But Sassa remained unmoved, in body and mind, and continued to stare back. She was a stubborn little thing, and thought she had a mouth on her, Ragnar knew she could be trusted. So he pulled the wrapped stone from his pocket and reviled it's milky white face to her. "It is called a sun stone. You put it up towards the sky, and it reveals the sun through the clouds." He demonstrated to her before her smaller hand uneasily took it to examine it closer. "It will be put over a floating board that will tell us if we go to far west, or too far east."

Sassa looked to him in doubt but did not voice her opinion. Instead her green eyes examined the stone in thought, turning it over in her small hands many times in thought before suddenly stopping as if deciding something. "Don't let him put it in his mouth." She held it back out to him. "He always puts things in his mouth." She glared at a many memories in disapproval. "Last time he returned he had a horrible rash on his tongue and it was swollen for weeks."

She fussed over her father like a mother would their child, Ragnar thought with a smile. Re-wrapping the stone in it's protective cloth, he nodded in understanding before pocketing it for safe keeping once more.

"Master." Their slave, Tyra, presented Floki with the traditional bowl of water a little while later as Sassa watched the steady moving waves in thought. Floki scooped the water into his hands and splashed it on his face. Cleaning himself, he wiped away what little grime there was and shook out his short hair.

He grabbed another handful of water and gently poured it over the statute he had made in the god's honor, a humble sacrifice. "May the gods bless us with powerful winds and calm seas." He pressed his finger to one nostril, then another, blowing to make sure the passages were clear in the usual tradition before shooing Tyra off to do the same with the other men.

Sassa took the statue back to her father's workshop, unaware Ragnar's elder brother Rollo followed behind her, devious and unwholesome thought about young bodies on his mind. Away from all other eyes he followed close, Sassa's back straightening as her hair stood up on edge before turning around. Rollo was no longer behind her. Her eyes scanned the area, and seeing no sign of him she continued putting the statue back, reminding herself to go hunting later in the day for an amble sacrifice to give. She was unaware as she left the workshop, Rollo had followed Tyra behind it. Yes, wholesome and devious things no longer on his mind as he took what he wanted from the slave without remorse.

Soon enough, the men were mounting their shields on the side of the boat and rowing out of their cove.

Left standing on the dock, Sassa turned to Tyra only to see redness around her eyes and tears clearing a path down her dirtied face. Her dress and hair were slightly disheveled and a coat of dirt was branded on her hands that had not been there earlier. Sassa's eyebrows rose in scrutiny; however, this was nothing new as Tyra was a clumsy young woman who often took small spills when carrying heavy things over the hilled area of their home. "What's wrong with you?"

Tyra seemed startled by the question and looked to the young lady, now the woman, of the house. As Floki or Sassa had never been outwardly cruel and had never touched her in such a manner as Rollo, she was sure she would face no punishment if she spoke the truth. But she dare not risk the wrath of a free man, especially one such as Rollo, and so said nothing, shaking her head that she was fine.

Sassa looked at her doubtfully, but beckoned her back inside. "You really shouldn't be so clumsy."

* * *

It was two weeks later that Tyra burst into the longhouse with humble apologies and the news that ships returned to Kattegat bearing the Earl's red sails. Sassa grabbed her bow and knife and mounted their horse. What felt like days later, having rode at full speed, Sassa broke through the border of the village and tied her horse to the stock. For once she was grateful for her small and slim size as she quickly slipped between the crowded patrons easily, crudely elbowing those that would not move out of her way. She heard a shout for one of the names she was desperate to hear. "Ragnar!"

Unapologetically. she pushed a man three times her size out of her way to break through onto the dock. Ragnar. Rollo. Erik. Rifil. Aghi... Sasa's heart dropped deeply into her stomach when she saw no sign of her father aboard or around the boat. Ragnar seemed to catch sight of the young girl frozen to the spot. "Sassa." He called gently. Sassa looked to the man, fearful of what he would say.

Long arms wrapped around her frame and picked her up, spinning her in small frenzy as she indignantly kicked out and elbowed him. " _Hehehehehe_!" Floki dropped his daughter and laughed at the pinched look of annoyance she tried to keep.

Sassa, always the more serious of the two, did not appreciate his prank and without much malice slapped against his opened arms and chest before he pulled her into a loose hug. As angry as she was at the laughter directed at them, mainly her and her flailing limbs, she could not deny her heart felt fuller.

"Look! We've brought slaves to sell. But there's more, woman. More things of gold and silver than you and I have ever seen before, nor anyone else here in Kattegat." Another of Ragnar's poss, a lumbering man of great height and long blond beard named Erik, spoke to his wife.

As if to prove his words true Floki pulled a necklace of gold and red stones from his pocket and hung it before Sassa's face. Her eyes widened at the beauty of it, the red stones catching the light of day. She snatched it greedily and held it in her hands. "What is this?" Her fingers ran over the strange symbol at the end of it, it resembled the nauthiz rune which meant 'need', but it's crossing line was straight across instead of slanted. The symbol was unfamiliar to her, yet it seemed to be marked on the various treasures they brought back with them. Her father scoffed. He told her it wasn't important.

"Ragnar Lothbrok!" A bellowing call sobered the celebration. The vikings that had left with Ragnar stilled and straightened. They knew that for all the treasure they brought back, they had disobeyed their Earl. An offense punishable by death. Eyes stared into eyes, hands slowly moved towards weapons. The tension was enough to make Sassa want to strike out, but suddenly the viking that had called for him gave a large grin. "Welcome back." The company of Ragnar relaxed. "We know you sailed west across the open ocean and found land and plunder, as you promised. So let no man say any more that it is not possible!" He loudly announced to the rest of the crowd. "And we salute and praise you!" Cheers rang out among the crowd. Sassa laughed almost giddily as she was picked up once more by her father, enjoying him spinning her before putting her down at the sight of a face in the crowd.

Ragnar had spotted him as well, and grabbing the rope that bound one of the new slaves hands together began walking off the dock. "Knut." Ragnar greeted the man, a storm building in those blue eyes. "You're too late. You missed the boat." Sassa's eyes bounced back and forth between the men, clear tension, and a warning of danger, passing between them.

"I came to tell you that Earl Haraldson summons you to attend him in the great hall."

Ragnar's eyes steeled forward, then to the young girl who studied him besides her father. A smirk lifted his lips, reassuring the girl and taunting Knut. "It will be a pleasure." Floki pushed his daughter by her shoulders, urging her to follow behind him. "Are you coming, Knut?" Ragnar turned back, taunting him once more as he grabbed Sassa by the back of the neck and maneuvered her before him. He let the little girl clear a path through the crowd for him, slender arms and boney elbows surprisingly efficient.

* * *

She had thought he had been exaggerating, but sure enough right before her lay a pile of gold larger than any she'd ever seen before. Her green eyes were wide, her normally sharp tongue, heavy and numb in the mouth as she simply stared. Behind her her father watched the interaction between the earl and ragnar, his long fingers scratching at his chin in anxiousness.

"My lord!" Ragnar spoke up, finally drawing Sassa's attention.

She understood why her father was so anxious now. As many citizens that could, had squeezed into the longhouse, eager to glimpse more at more gold than they had ever heard stories of. They huddled around, making sure to leave a wide space between them and the gold, as to not look greedy before their Earl. In the center of that empty space stood two things, the treasure, and Ragnar Lothbrok. The Earl's eyes were equally focused on both.

Ragnar did not look afraid, he did not even look remorseful as he walked closer. "It was easy to take all of these things. The priests in their temple, they had no weapons. They were like babies." He pulled the rope still in his hands, and with it brought forth one of the new slaves. Sassa noticed the odd way they had cut their hair, keeping all of it but shaving the top, not even at the crown, as was tradition. Sassa would ask her father of it later.

"Here is one of their priests. We captured several of them to sell for slaves." Ragnar pushed the priest away, and without pause he scuttled back to the safety of the crowd, away from the Earl's curious and hungry eyes. Hungry for blood, or gold, Sassa didn't know. Ragnar turned to the crowd this time, raising his voice for all to hear, "It must be true that there are many more such holy places in England and other lands to the west likewise filled with such treasure, and to sail there will benefit us all." He directed the last part of his speech to the Earl, a clear reminder and subtle undermine that the Earl had been so adamant there was nothing there for their people. Floki gave a tiny giggle behind his daughter, as the Earl's face flinched.

The Earl suddenly stood up, standing tall above the farmer on his stage. The murmuring crowd went silent. Floki straightened and the viking Erik rested his hand upon Sassa's shoulder, such a young girl should not see what horror may follow, he was ready to push her out of the line of sight.

But the Earl made no move to attack the man, or have his men attack for him. Instead he seemed to grind his teeth before asking, "How did you find this place of great riches when all before you had failed?"

The sun stone, Sassa immediately thought. But this was not what Ragnar answered. "My lord, we were more fortunate than others. We had Thor on our side."

The god's name was repeated in a false prayer of thanks by the rest of Ragnar's men. Solidifying the lie the Earl seemed to have trouble believing. He snorted quietly like a beast, not believing the farmer, but not willing to endure the wrath of the gods should he openly call him a liar. "Yes. Then you were indeed fortunate… but you understand that all this belongs to me, by right."

Ragnar's smile fell completely. The room held their breath. By law, an Earl could take any treasure taken by a man under his power, and as all the men had sworn their oaths, all their treasure was indeed his to take. But a man, an Earl even, with honor always split his haul between the men, taking little for himself. Sassa was beginning to see Earl Haraldson was no man of honor...

"My lord, me and Floki paid for the boat." Paid with near every scrap her could. "Surely we are entitled to some reward, and the crew-" He tried to reason with the Earl, such selfishness haven't been seen in quite some time, and certainly not at a time when there was so very much to divide.

"You want me to pay you when you took these things as easily as from babies?" He mocked, his steward, a short, fat, balding man by the name Svein stated chuckling, and looked to the crowd to follow. They did. An in better spirits from their humiliation, the Earl smiled faintly. "Here's what I've decided to do: each one of you can take one thing from this haul."

Erik pulled Sassa closer to her father, letting Floki keep her close as armed guards of the Earl's house came to protect him from those that might try to attack.

"One?" A man spoke up, voicing their collected indignation.

"Yes. And you'll still be richer than you were before! Now, all the world can see how magnanimous and generous is your lord!" He sang that last words as he stared into Ragnar's eyes. "Especially since you disobeyed me. So, Ragnar Lothbrok, what will you choose?"

Ragnar was a rather bright man. And an idea came quickly to his mind. He knew what he wanted immediately, but could not alert the Earl to his intentions, which if he acted on too quickly, would strike suspicion. Instead he wandered over to the large pile of golds and gems and fingered some of the treasure. He picked up a bowl, almost excitedly, weighing it in his hand before turning to his brother and the rest of the crowd. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead put the bowl on his head, a golden hat as he gave a small dance. The crowd laughed at his foolery before he put the bowl back. He looked over the treasure he no longer had the same interest in as before once more. Then he wandered past Erik, Sassa, and Floki, looking into their waiting eager eyes before his own bright blues settled on the priest. "I will take the priest." He announced, "for my slave."

"The priest?" Earl Haraldson asked in disbelief, all the gold in the room, and the man wanted a skinny shaking slave. Ragnar nodded. The Earl's wife Siggy, a beautiful woman could not contain her laughter and her body bent forward with the force of it, some of the crowd following behind. "Granted." The Earl easily dismissed it. A farmer needed help, a slave on a farm was nothing to give pause on.

As the builder of the boat, Floki went next. Like Ragnar, a treasure already in mind. And like Ragnar, a surprise to the Earl and crowd. He approached the treasure with quick footing, but as he approached his hand did not grasp the large golden cross like most assumed, rich in gold and covered in gems. No, his hand stopped short, instead his long fingers hooked unto the gold and red gemmed necklace that hung from its arm. The Earl quickly nodded his approval, beginning to think the men had gone mad.

He presented his daughter with the necklace he had promised her. Sassa's eyes were wide guilt filling her stomach like bile. "What? No." She tried to make him take it back and choose something that would be of more worth, but Floki tisked at her and closed her hand around it. Without patience, he pushed her from the crowd, eager to find his lover Helga and go home.

He did not particularly like the village, what with its politics and crowd. This encounter only cemented that...

* * *

Still exhausted by the village of Kattegat and it's inhabitants three weeks later, Floki had sent his daughter to the market to bring back more nails for a project. It was on this same day that Ragnar brought his new slave to the Earl, eager to share all the wonderful things the priest in hopes of being granted another voyage. And thanks to Athelstan's genuine surprise and desperate begging, which only served to further prove Ragnar's point, it had worked.

Leaving the Earl's home he found what little light remained of the day was gone and a familiar face passing by in the scatterings of a crowd. "What are you doing here?" He asked the young girl. Too young, and too small to be alone on her journey back to her forest guarded home.

Sassa recognized the voice and turned back to see her favorite farmer. "Hello, Ragnar." She greeted with a fond smile. It slipped from her lips when she spotted who accompanied him. Sassa gave the priest slave a long examining look. "It is okay." Ragnar tugged on the rope around the priest's neck to pull him closer. Athelstan took small steps towards the girl who didn't look frightened, per say, but didn't look pleased to have him any closer either. "Are you frightened?" Ragnar challenged with a small smile, knowing it would annoy her.

"No." Sassa's eyes flashed to him, her face a mask of indifference and a spark of fire in her eyes. "Just busy. _Some of us_ have work to do." She raised her chin to look disapprovingly at the Viking. Ragnar smiled, always amused by such dangerous words used by someone so small.

"Where is your father?" He noticed the heavy basket filled with nails and iron works she carried alone.

"Home." She shifted the basket in her hands and cast another quick glance at the Christian slave. "He has little patience for politics and crowds." And even less for the Earl, she finished in her head.

"He sent you here? _Alone_? It's dark now." Ragnar worried how the small girl would get home alone through the thick forest paths.

Sassa gave Ragnar an exasperated look as she barely contained her eye roll. She carried two daggers on her person, one sharp needle through the center braid at the back of her head and another in the pocket of her skirts. She was a freewoman, and one clearly well taken care of by the looks of her clean clothes and unmarred face. There was little chance of men daring to try and rape her or rob her, and if one should be so inclined they would meet a swift and bloody end, if not by her hand then by her father's.

" _Do you have such little faith in me_?" She stared at him with the same intensity and low voice he had with her a month ago, a slight mocking one added to her own use of the words.

"Pst." Ragnar gently hit her shoulder, propelling her a step back with a fond smirk. Sassa smiled, leaving on good terms, but as she past the priest she watched as his eyes followed her before meeting her own. His blue eyes lowered to the ground at her near glare in her searching observation of him.

Realizing he could save himself a trip tomorrow, he called for the girl to pause.

"Tell Floki Earl Haraldson has given his blessing. We will return to England."

Sassa regarded the man with a calm face but a heavy heart. It had been only weeks since her father had returned to her. "When will you leave?"

* * *

"Tomorrow." Ragnar had informed his wife of their impending departure the next morning. Lagertha was a level headed woman, and while miles away Sassa ranted and threw things at her father for leaving again so soon, the shieldmaiden looked at her husband with sad acceptance.

The shieldmaiden gave a shuddering sigh at the idea of not only losing her husband again so soon, but also being left behind. Ragnar had a way with words, making her believing in these lands and these riches at a time when no one else but he did. Missing out on seeing it with her own eyes, standing beside him as they reached the land...well it haunted her. "We all wish you success. We will sacrifice to Odin." There was love, and loyalty, and happiness in her voice, but all of it was muted and muffled through the clear pain of missing out once more.

Ragnar smirked, prideful that he would soon lift her spirits. With an almost teasing tone, he carelessly asked, "Are you not coming?"

"What?" Lagertha sharply asked, unsure if she heard him correctly with his back to her.

Ragnar turned to face his wife, amusement alight in his eyes as he took in her confused, but hopeful expression.

"I want you to come with me." He told her plainly.

"But the farm, the children." Lagertha repeated the same argument in which he had so readily used to keep her there the last time, an awed and eager smile slowly creeping on her face the longer he looked at her.

"Bjorn is still too young." Ragnar dismissed the idea of bringing the boy along. "Although he can help on the farm..."

"But who is to be in charge?" With both his parents gone, the boy wasn't sure if that meant he'd be in charge or not. The idea both thrilled and terrified him, as it may be weeks or months before his parents returns. There was still much Bjorn needed to learn. But he was ready. Or so he thought.

"The priest." With two simple words Bjorn's pride and hopes were crushed. "I will leave him with a key."

"Father!" Bjorn stood up alarmingly fast, his young face scrunched in hurtful yet bitter disbelief. "You cannot place a slave above me, your natural son!" Ragnar stared at his son, and Bjorn sat down, still with a look of angry betrayal on his face.

"I don't regard him as a slave." Ragnar spared the priest a small look.

After Sassa had left them in the village, the priest had fallen to his knees in the center of the city, adamant he would no longer be treated like an animal, lead on a leash, slaughtered at will. If he were to die and be hung in the village center like his brothers, then so be it. The priest had fallen to his knees, praying to his god for a swift and painless death, a prayer he thought would be answered when Ragnar pulled a sharp knife and approached him with wild eyes. But the heathen did not slit his throat or impale his skull like he thought. Instead, he cut the rope around the priest's neck, and unkindly told him he was free to run away if he wished. Without another word, Ragnar left him to make the choice on his own. "Choice" being a loose term, as it was to dark to navigate the vast wooded area of a land he did not know and filled with barbarians he dare not anger. He looked to his right, seeing the cold swaying bodies of his fellow brothers, beaten, bloodless, and unwhole, and knew the only chance he would have to live was under Ragnar's rule.

With nowhere to go Athelstan was forced to return with ragnar to a farm and family who it seemed would not kill him oh so carelessly as others clearly would. "He's a responsible person."

"Please, Ragnar Lothbrok, don't do this." Athelstan begged

"What do you think, Gyda?"

The young girl looked a bit hesitant, knowing she would only serve to further anger her brother. "I don't mind. I like the priest." She added with a bit more enthusiasm.

Ragnar saw the trepidation in his wife's eyes still and assured her. "Floki's daughter, Sassa, she is a an older girl, very wise, very strong. I will have her come and see that they are alright." He stoked his daughter's hair. "She's a good girl. I would leave the farm in her charge."

"Sassa!" Bjorn was even more horrified.

"Is that anyway to speak of your wife?" Ragnar mocked. Bjorn's ears and cheeks tinged a distinct pink while Lagertha raised a questioning brow at her husband. The viking winked, assuring her he was jesting.

Lagertha nodded and accepted the offer.

"Then it is decided." Ragnar smiled at his children, though Gyda was the sole heir to return it, and walked out of their home, needing to pack. Quiet fell over the house as the Priest stared at the table, regretting ever speaking to Ragnar and fearing for what would become of the people of his homeland.

Lagertha look at her children, the center of her world, and then to the priest. She leaned over the table, bracing herself on it's top as she stared down the priest. "If any harm befalls my children, I will tear the lungs out of your body, _Priest_." She spat the word to remind him the title meant nothing here, it would offer no protection from her wrath.

For all the times Athelstan had been frightened in this new world, none compared to the chill he felt at the mother's threat. He turned towards the children, hoping to find comfort in their sweet and innocent faces but Gyda looked at him knowingly and Bjorn glared at him with fury and disgust. As he was left alone with the children, he swallowed thickly and tried to change the focus from his possible impending demise. "Who is Sassa?"

* * *

"Sassa!" Ragnar called the girl from the beach. Floki and his daughter both looked up, and seeing Ragnar finished their goodbye.

"This is the girl you expect to keep my children safe?" His wife was clearly unimpressed as she saw the girl approach.

"No. She is the girl I expect to keep _our_ children safe." Ragnar corrected.

Lagertha was suddenly not as sold on the idea as she had been that morning. Sassa appeared to be a small thing, smaller than Lagertha in all shapes and ways. She was rather short, her hips were rather flat, as was her chest, and her arms held muscle but still looked stick-like. If not for the flowing skirts and long braided hair, one might easily mistake her for a young boy. A very pretty boy, but a boy none the less.

She wondered for a brief moment if Ragnar's choice was led by her pretty face rather than any skilled fight. He had previously made a joke about her being Bjorn's wife. Perhaps he had hopes for the two…

"Hello, Ragnar." Sassa greeted with a small smile.

"Sassa!" Ragnar greeted her enthusiastically as is speaking to a close friend, "This is my wife, Lagertha." He introduced the beautiful blond woman not much taller than herself.

"Hello, Sassa." She greeted politely. "It is nice to meet you."

"Hello Lagertha. It is nice to meet you too, I have..heard many stories of you battles." Sassa was in awe of the woman but kept things rather civil. Ragnar nudge her as if knowing this fact.

"I ask a favor from you." He clasped the girl's shoulder. "My children have been left with the priest, but Bjorn is headstrong, stubborn like a goat." Ragnar laughed fondly over his son's stubbornness, for the same thing could be said about him. "Go to them while we are gone, make sure he behaves himself and does not leave, eh?"

"Of course." Sassa seemed a bit eager at the idea of bossing Bjorn around. Maybe a bit _too_ much...

Rangar gave a small huff of a laugh. "Do you know the way to our farm?" Sassa shook her head. "You ride East along the sand until you reach a wide river. Upstream, there is a collection of farms. I ask that you check in on my family. Ask anyone there for Bjorn, they will tell you where to go. Will you do this for me Sassa Flokisdottir?"

"On my honor." She swore. "I will not let harm befall your children while I am there."

"How old are you?" Lagertha asked the girl, rather abruptly. Ragnar straightened his back, knowing if his wife did not trust the girl their simple plan would be rather ruined. Sassa looked to his wife and squared her shoulders, small and slim as she was, her attempt to look bigger did nothing. But there was a sudden harness in her pretty face, one that made her seemed more woman that girl.

"Fifteen." She spoke almost defensively. She did not want to look weak in the eyes of this woman. A shieldmaiden. Something many girls dreamed of, like Sassa, but few would ever achieve...like Sassa.

"Has your father taught you to use a shield?" Lagertha was surprised but did not linger on Sassa's less developed state.

"Yes. And bow. And a knife."

"The girl's aim is admirable." Ragnar threw in. Lagertha ignored him, focusing on Sassa who briefly turned to Ragnar to nod in gratitude.

"What of a sword?"

Sassa's eyes lost some of their stubbornness but she did not let her discomfort show. The green orbs lowered briefly to the sand "He says my arms are too weak for a sword. I was weaker as a girl." Floki was a father that worried for his daughter, but he was a man far to prideful to admit it. Even now that she was older and stronger he would not teach her how to use a sword, fearful it would only encourage her to seek a life of war.

Lagertha gripped the girl by the top of her neck and lifted her head skyward. There was a challenge, a fire, in her green eyes. "You are not weak anymore."

"No." Sassa pulled her head away defiantly, answering as if it was a question.

Lagertha saw something rare in her. A fire, a fierceness in her eyes that had the making of a great warrior. She understood how her husband could bet their children's lives on her. As small as she was, she had a presence about her that demanded Shieldmaiden smirked. "When we return, I will talk to your father about training you." Sassa' face slackened in surprise. "Provided you can keep two children safe, yes?" She teased.

Sassa's jaw ticked as she straightened, that fire returning once more as she nodded in acceptance.

The shieldmaiden turned to her husband with a smile accepting his proposition. Sassa would check in on the children. Ragnar's hand rested on the top of Sassa's head, caressing it in a distant hug before patting it. "Good girl."

When the two Vikings had gone, Sassa let a wide grin creep onto her face, green eyes turning to the raining skies in thanks of the gods. She'd never thought she'd feel it, but Sassa was suddenly eager to see Bjorn Ragnarsson.


	3. 1x04: Trial

Easy, easy  
Pull out your heart  
To make the being alone  
Easy, easy

Lorde : Easy

* * *

**Glory & Gore **

**Chapter 3:**

**Trial**

* * *

Sassa had kept to her oath.

On the first day she came to the farm on the eve of dusk, gifting them with fish and squirrel she had caught as she reaffirmed the idea any harm to the children would result in a slow and painful death for the priest. Other than that, she was rather pleasant. An authoritative presence that Bjorn might just hate more than Athelstan himself but at least listened too. She did not come back the next day but rather the one after. This time she came early, effortlessly helping in the tending to the farm and correcting the arrogance of the priest when Bjorn had no patience to. And so it went. Coming one day, leaving them be another, time after time until the week passed.

Not only was she a great help on the farm but she brought with her a great distraction: offering Gyda games to play while Bjorn was busy with his duties as the man of the house. Personally Gyda felt he rather overworked himself, mainly to keep away from Athelstan as much as possible. The priest may be in charge of the children, but when it came to farming he was clueless as to their ways.

Young Gyda turned her eyes up to the entrance of the barn she and the priest sat in on Sassa's fourth visit. As they fed and watered the goats, Sassa leaned against the entrance. Today she had left Bjorn with to his own devices, her own chores at her home having tired her greatly. Now she stood before them, an axe in one hand and a sharpening stone in another. The elder girl didn't even look at her work as she expertly smoothed and thinned the blade. The cleaner cut would make it easier for slaughtering and butchering. A great deal of help for Bjorn and Gyda as the priest seemed to go white in the face when tasked with a killing...

Gyda briefly thought of asking to play a game, but upon seeing the tiredness in Sassa's eyes she relented instead to ease her boredom but satisfying her curiosity.

"Do you have any family priest?

"I had four brothers and a sister. They all died of a fever, like my mother and father. I was only saved because they had me placed in a monastery when I was just a child. They had too many mouths to feed." He offered an explanation at Gyda's saddened look.

"So you are alone?"

"No." Athelstan seemed humored by that. "God is my father, so I am never alone."

"What does your god look like?" Gyda wondered.

"No one can know what God looks like. It would be like looking into the sun. It can not be done. But he did send his only son to live on the earth and he looked like a man."

Sassa chortled, her chore momentarily forgotten as she eyed the priest like some fool. "But I know what the sun looks like." She gestured to the circle in the sky. "It it round, and yellow," she pointedly stared into it with narrow eyes. "-and I can feel it's heat, therefore, I know it is real..."

Gyda was quick to add. "Odin, Thor and Loki are like men... only they are gods."

"They aren't Gods." Athelstan snapped lowly. "They don't exist."

It was at that unfortunate moment the priest realized Bjorn had entered the barn beside Sassa his face one of fury as he used all his strength to bury the axe he had been cutting wood with into a heavy stump. His furious eyes turned to Athelstan before seeing Sass's watchful, but cold, gaze. He stormed away. Sassa waiting till the bright red tips of his funny ears had gone far enough away to turn to the priest.

"Watch what you say, priest." She warned as she came closer. "You're people so _willingly die_ for your gods." Placing the axe head under his chin, she lifted his head up to meet her eyes. "When we so _eagerly kill_ for ours..." She left the threat hang as she pulled the axe back quickly. "Your God is not here. Your God can not save you. I suggest you spend your time gaining the favor of those who will…" She looked to Gyda before taking her leave.

The priest was silent, his throat dry as he stared at the gleaming axe head.

"They have beards."

"What?" Athelstan dumbly asked, unsure he heard the young girl beside him correctly.

"Thor, and Odin...they have beards." She smiled at him. All fear or hesitance gone in the face of curiosity like only children could do. "Does your god have a beard?"

"Yes." Athelstan sighed. "Why not…" He conceded.

* * *

"I want to go to Kattegat." Bjorn had waited till dinner to voice his desire. The moonless sky and late hour had kept Sassa there for the night, much to the joy of the homes occupants. Athelstan in particular liked the way Sassa teased Bjorn through the day and kept him far from the priest. Like Athelstan, Bjorn had his own selfish reasons for inviting her to stay for dinner. Putting his dislike of her aside, he knew full well Gyda was enamored with the elder girl and would likely have no qualms joining in their demand. Surely Sassa would agree with him. "I want to see my father return soon. He _must_ return soon."

Athelstan looked from the boy that held no love for him to the elder girl that seemed indifferent. "I gave your father my word that I would look after you both here."

Bjorn nearly laughed, his eyes widening at the choice of words. "You are not looking after us." His tone grew serious, berating almost. "We look after ourselves." He motioned to Gyda silently sitting across from him, confirming Sassa's suspicion that Athelstan was little more than a guard dog meant to give the appearance that any attack or attempt to lay claim against the farm or children would be futile.

False as his purpose may be, Athelstan had given his word he would keep the children on the farm. "I cannot allow you to go on your own to Kattegat... Your father would never tolerate such a thing."

"Then we should go together, the three of us."

"And who will then look after the farm?" Athelstan argued back, a small but sure smile on his face as he believed Bjorn beat.

"Then I will go with Sassa!"

The girl's eyes widened as she turned to Bjorn. "I am not going to Kattegat. I've just been" She dismissed him with a humorous scoff. Bjorn looked at her with eyes angry and ears and cheeks flushed. Sassa stabbed at her overcooked meat. She ignored his sulking gaze. Stunned silent by her blatant refusal to help him, Bjorn left Athelstan enough time to say his odd prayer to his god.

"For what we are about to receive, may the lord make us truly grateful. Amen." He ignored the children''s strange stares.

"Eat, Gyda." Sassa encouraged the girl to dig in as Athelstan poured ale into their cups.

"Can I have some ale?"

Athelstan smirked kindly but shook his head. "You're too young, Gyda, to drink ale."

Gyda turned her head in disappointment poking sulkily at her food. Bjorn stared at the priest with cold eyes. He picked up his ale filled cup and reached over to pass it to Gyda. The girl happily took the cup and brought it to her lips, ready to drink before catching sight of Sassa. The elder girl's gaze made her pause before a smile lit her lips. Sassa had been years younger than Gyda when she had begun drinking the beverage. She didn't see the harm it would do just this once. With a single nod from her, Gyda drank hesitantly a few sips before placing it back down. She made a slight face at the unfamiliar taste of it. Sassa laugh a low and cheerful sound as she switched the cup with one of water. One day she might grow to appreciate the sweet drink but today was not that day.

It seemed the girls were the only ones in good spirits.

"I want to make a sacrifice to Thor, for my father's safe return." Bjorn stared at the priest with cold eyes unfitting a child.

"What will you sacrifice?"

"You!" Bjorn knocked the cup of ale from the table with a loud clatter as he picked up a large pot and raised it.

"Enough!" She shouted, pushing him back with her hands and standing tall. Their slight high difference was more prominent with her straight authoritative stance and his hunched, attack ready pose. "You're scaring Gyda." She whispered to him. Bjorn looked to his sister, as far on the bench as the wood would let her, staring with large frightened eyes as she curled in on herself.

Bjorn threw the pot away to the the floor and stormed away from the table.

Sassa watched him leave.

"Eat Gyda." Sassa smiled in the kindest way Athelstan had yet to see.

"Thank you." The priest swallowed thickly.

" _Don't_." She advised. As they settled back into an unsteady silence Sassa broke it with a pointed look to the priest. "You antagonize him you know... "She looked towards the back of the longhouse, knowing Bjorn rested just behind the stick built wall. "With your foul lies and falsities about the gods." Athelstan wanted to argue but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. It would not do to anger her as well. "If Ragnar were to die.. You would become his. And he would be able to do as he wished with you. Even if that meant doing away with you." She warned him with a low voice. Low enough as to not give Bjorn ideas or alarm Gyda of the danger the priest she was so fond of was under.

Dinner resumed as a quiet affair before they retired for the night.

Gyda was all to happy to be able to share her bed with Sassa, the younger asking questions about hunting, and climbing trees, and hunting while climbing trees, before a still irritated Bjorn told them to shut up. Sassa waited until Gyda turned over, trying to be quiet before she childishly hit the top of the bunk, Bjorn giving a small groan as the wood's tapping banged loudly in his large ear.

As the children settled and the dark of night took hold, Athelstan found himself wide awake. With a cautious glance at the children and a nagging in his mind and soul, he carefully retrieved his bible. Opening the pages he stared, seeing but not reading, as the lines of latin and scripture seemed hollow and empty. They no longer brought him warmth of comfort. Instead they seemed to bend and morph in his mind, confusing him even more until he shut the book completely. His gaze wandered to the flickering light of the candle. A prayer filled with too much feeling and anger to be kept to himself. His low voice gently entered the room, a quiet whisper as if near the ear of God himself.

"Where are you, lord? Tell me: _Is it your will_ that I am here with these _heathens_?" Athelstan looked towards the children's sleeping forms, the word being the only one that came to mind and yet...somehow did not seem to fit the children.

"How does it serve you?" His brows furrowed as he turned back to his candle. "I don't understand. And for the first time in my life I am angry with you. You allow my brothers to be slaughtered and sold. Is this really your will? For the first time… I feel _lonely_. Where are you, lord? Where are you? And why don't you answer me?"

Silence overtook the house before a strange rustling and shaking of feathers occurred above Athelstan. The priest gathered his candle and slowly crept to the corner of the home. His heartbeat still, his eyes widened, as he lifted the candle. The priest sighed as his blue eyes met tawny yellow. "It's just an owl." His shoulders sagged in a mixture of disappointment and relief.

_"Your God is not here. Your God can not save you. I suggest you spend your time gaining the favor of those who will…"_

Sassa's words rang loud in his ears. Athelstan came to a decision. He tried to be quiet as he approached the children's beds.

"Bjorn." He whispered to the sleeping boy on the top bunk. "Bjorn, wake up." He gently shook his shoulder.

Bjorn gave an exasperated groan at being woken. Some of them actually had work to do in the morning… Sleepily turning over, he was met with the bright light of Athelstan's candle near his eyes.

"What is it?!" He irritably asked, eyes narrowing in both pain and annoyance.

"We'll go to Kattegat, all of us, tomorrow." Athelstan bashfully moved the candle lower out of Bjorn's eyesight.

Bjorn's eyes widened just a bit, searching for any sign of falsehood in the priest's words. Perhaps it was a joke like the ones Sassa liked to play. "Really?"

"Yes." Athelstan smiled largely, already seeing Bjorn's attitude shift to something more pleasant. At least for the moment.

" _Great_ , now shut up." Came an even groggier feminine voice from below. The order was accompanied by her swiftly blowing out the flame of the candle Athelstan had foolishly lowered into _her_ vision, leaving Athelstan to stumble his way back to his own bed.

His bumps against furniture and hisses of pain brought giggles and sleepy grins to the children's faces.

* * *

Other than his funny rounded ears that seemed to protrude oddly from his head, Bjorn was, admittedly, not an ugly boy. It was this fact alone that saved Sassa from believing the boy to be some kind of Seer. Because sure enough, the day they arrived at Kattegat calls went out that boats entered the harbor.

The children waited impatiently at the docks, their straining eyes searching for any sign of their parents as Athelstan tried his best to make himself small. He was a slave in a port of freemen. Freemen who took one look at him and recognized him for the Christian he was. One particularly angry man spat at his feet, his glower gaze only ceasing when it was met with Sassa's own. Athelstan nodded in appreciation, but the girl paid no mind, her attention stolen by the cries of Gyda.

"There! There! Father! Mother!" She screamed waving from her spot on top a wooden create.

Sure enough Lagertha's face broke out into a big grin, Ragnar following soon after as they spotted their children waiting for them beside Sassa and the priest. Once more, Athelstan tried his best to be small as the vikings came ashore. But he was not met with berating threats or violence for letting the children leave the farm. Instead Ragnar spared him a friendly clap on the back before taking his children into his arms. Floki doing the same with his daughter, threatening to throw her into the water when she kicked to be put down.

Athelstan watched as her demeanor with her father was a combination of the only two he had yet seen. The playfulness she held for Gyda, and the exasperated annoyance she had with Bjorn. He smiled despite his worry. Happy to see such love and happiness amongst these people, especially the children...

Sassa had lost her harsh warning gaze. Gyda was no longer quiet as she chatted none stop with her mother about her travels. And Bjorn once more looked like a child as his father struggled to pick him up with one hand and a bag of treasures with another. As Ragnar kissed his son's head and put him down, he shifted the bag over his shoulder.

The loud clanking of metal hitting metal sobered the priest who knew all to well where it had come from and what they had done to get it...

Athelstan suddenly felt sick and reverted back to a contemplating, humble monk as he followed behind the children and Ragnar.

The crowd began making their way to the Earl's longhouse and the center of their village. Happy from their pillage, their new riches, and their surprise greetings.

But no greeting was more surprising than the Earl himself. "Ragnar Lothbrok!" He called as he and his guardsmen arrived through the splitting crowd just outside his home. "My _friend_." He greeted with plain eyes. "How was your voyage? Successful I hope, for all our sakes."

Ragnar's mouth lifted in a smirk as he adjusted the bag over his shoulder and let it fall to the ground between them. The loot clattered and clanked, a good sign of plenty of rich metals.

"The Saxons attacked us when we returned to the boat, in great force..." Ragnar addressed the crowd, his eyes settling on his son behind him. "but we defeated them!" He hollered triumphantly, those around him cheering loudly.

One man however, was noticeably less joyous. Earl Haraldson regarded the surrounding men with careless eyes, looking for something he seemed not to find. "You are the man that people say you are..." _Ruthless, skilled_. "A great adventurer..." _A threat to his Earldom._ "And I am happy to salute your achievements and to share in the profit of your raid." The Earl ignored the way his stomach turned at the appraising. Instead he gave a faint smile, a momentary flash of happiness before his eyes wandered the crowd once more. "But I don't see my friend, Knut. Where is he?"

"Knut is dead."

"Dead?" Earl Haraldson's brow raised. "Did he die in the battle?"

"No."

"Then how did he die?" He snapped

His edged tone caused some of the men to shift a bit closer to the children in the middle of their crowd. As Gyda grabbed the back of her mother's shirt for comfort, Bjorn and Sassa shared a daring look. The green eyed girl was the first to look back to the men, her eyes narrowed and focused on the Earl while Bjorn's were waiting staring at his father.

Ragnar studied the man he knew did not trust him. The man who had stolen his horde, and who sent a spy to his pillage, likely to kill him. The man that would have no problem condemning and killing him. Of this he knew. What he did not know, was how he would react to the news it was his wife that killed his rat. It was an unknown that unsettled his stomach. A chance he was unwilling to take… So he lied. "I killed him."

"You killed him." The Earl's voice grew terse, his jaw clenching in suppressed anger. "For what reason?"

"Because... he tried to rape my wife, Lagertha." This part was truth.

The Earl didn't care, half lie, full lie, unlike the men in Ragnar's party he did not get the sense of a hidden secret. He was far too enraged by his spoiled effort to kill the troublesome farmer once and for all. "I find it too convenient that you would make an excuse to kill my friend and my agent on your voyage." He blatantly admitted to Knut's reason for going, a small pleasure to Ragnar though the farmer did not show it. "What did you think that you would gain by getting rid of him?!"

"I didn't expect to gain anything."

"I don't believe you." Haraldson clipped. "Arrest him!" He ordered the men sworn to his service. The guards moved in as the Earl took his leave, most of the men being restrained while those posed to fight circled around the children stuck in the middle. Such a joyous occasion never should have turned dangerous.

"My lord!" Ragnar called for the elder man to stop as he was grabbed by two men. "For your wife Siggy would have you not done the same?" The Earl's head turned just for a moment as his steps slowed as if considering it. In the same it took for Ragnar to blink, the Earl was once more returning to his home.

One of the few unrestrained, Floki gave a barbaric growl as he pulled a dagger from his belt. Perfectly aware of his daughters unwavering and studious gaze upon him. Placing the sharp edge under the chin of Ragnar's captor he sneered.

"I would counsel you all _against_ such actions. There is no way you could prevail." Svein, the Earl's steward and most trusted companion warned them. He was a short, fat, vile, little man with no sign of ever been in battle or wishing to. His brownish red hair was unwilling gone from the top of his rounded head and he had the cowardly habit of never traveling the village without guards. His looks, much like his fighting skills, were little to none existent. Perhaps the reason he was years elder than Ragnar and still without wife or children. Then again Sassa couldn't imagine any reason other than by force a woman would want to lay with him. Luckily he was too busy with his head up the Earl's ass to try…

"But if you would like to try…" Svein looked to one of the Earl's guards, nodding for them to draw their weapons.

Ragnar could hear the whimper of his daughter, cutting clear through the crowd to his heart as Sassa and Bjorn closed in around her, their own protective circle for the girl.

"Floki." Ragnar called for the boat builder to lay down arms. He would go willingly...

"Take this man away." Svein ordered. Ragnar gave only a small grunt in protest as he was roughly grabbed and led from his friends and family.

"Father!" Bjorn hollered for his father as his uncle restrained him.

He looked over his shoulder, just briefly to smile at his family.

It would be alright.

Odin wasn't done with him yet...

* * *

"Bring in the prisoner!" Svein ordered the guards the next day. He, like the familiars and citizens of the village were crammed into the Earl's home, the center of their tribe's land and workings. It would be here that Ragnar would plead his case. And it would be here he might very well be sentenced to death.

And yet, as he was lead in with a guard on either side of him and his arms and legs chained, one might think he was simply going for a walk with how at ease he seemed.

However, his son was not calm in the least. Bjorn was distressed at seeing his honorable father shackled and chained like some lowly criminal. "Look at him! He's in chains!"

"Shut up." Sassa told him harshly. His whining wouldn't reflect well on his father. It was not just Ragnar, but his family, that were the focus of the crowd gathered. Lagertha's face was saddened and worried, but she stood tall and straight, her narrowed eyes shifting to the Earl as her children stood quietly beside her.

"It's all right, boy." Ragnar words tried to comfort the boy and by turn his young sister. But Sassa was not so easily convinced. She couldn't help but think he looked very much like that sheep come to slaughter, for she had little trust in the mercy of a Earl who so greedily had taken treasure as a punishment for pride. She feared what he'd do to Ragnar for murder...

"We are all aware of the sacred nature of our duty here!" The Earl called the silence of the court before addressing Ragnar. "You stand before us accused of the willful murder of Knut, my brother. Knut, as some of you may know, was the bastard son of my father. But I loved him like a brother." Sassa's face wrinkled in displeasure as the court cooed and tisk at the Earl's sorrow-filled confession. "I asked Knut to go with Ragnar Lothbrok to England, where they raided a town and brought back many spoils. And while they were raiding this town, Ragnar Lothbrok took it upon himself to cold-bloodedly kill my brother!"

"Why is he lying?" Sassa quietly asked her father behind her. Floki silence his daughter by putting his hand over her mouth. It was not just Ragnar and his family, but his friends that were under suspicion...

"It's easy to imagine why a man like this would do such a thing. This-" The Earl pointed to Ragnar will a stern finger. "-is an ambitious man. He doesn't care to share his spoils, and he resents the fact that he owes me loyalty and obedience as his chieftain. This is a man who does not believe in _our_ traditions. This is a man who does not believe in _our_ laws!"

Sassa was a bright girl and quickly picked up on how he tried to turn the crowd against him. Make them hate him as much as the Earl and there would be no doubt they'd call for his death. It seemed to work, as the same crowd that had sung his praises to the gods just a day prior began booing the farmer in condemnation.

Ragnar was unbothered, his cold eyes staring at the Earl with a sort of small smile on his face. A grimace almost, that managed to be both polite and threatening...

"Silence! Silence!" Svein raised his hand and called to the crowd to quiet so the Earl could continue.

"What do you have to say, when you stand before us, and know that you must tell the truth?"

Ragnar's gaze remained solely on the Earl, his jaw tensing as he considered his words. "It is that true that I killed Knut!" He spoke loudly, unashamed. "Sadly, your brother. But I killed him when I found him trying to rape my wife." Ragnar turned to look at the court. "I ask all of you freemen, what would have you done if you were in my place? Would have you just stood back? Encouraged the culprit?! I don't think you would..." He pointedly looked at some of the men that had booed him when he arrived before turning back to the Earl. "And even if I had of known at the time he was your brother, I would have carried out the same sentence."

Svein scoffed. "Do you seriously ask us to believe your story?"

"I can confirm the story!" Lagertha spoke loudly, causing a wave of new murmurs to spread through the gathered onlookers.

The Earl regarded her with surprise. "You are the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok?"

"I am, Lord." She remained respectful even when she was visibly anxious. She would rather he not be on trial at all, but as he had so foolishly lied, she would do what

"How _extraordinary_ that you happened to be there at the same time..." Some laughed at the Earl's mocking. "Your husband is _lying_ and you are so under his thumb that he has persuaded you to _lie for him_."

The implication she was a _weak_ woman, so easily swayed, so easy to give up her honor, made Lagertha's face loose its plead and take on a more familiar look of rage. Her eyes narrowed like fine daggers. "May Thor strike you dead!" She said in a venomous whisper loud enough for him and the rest of the court to catch. Yet another wave of raucous arguments and cries for punishment rang loud and clear.

Sassa turned to Bjorn and Gyda, the younger of which wanted to stand close to her mother but not wanting the attention it would bring. Instead the girl seemed to shake with nerves, such a soft heart shielding herself behind her angrier and more hardened brother. Bjorn let his little sister cling to him as she tried to hide. Poor Gyda, calls for both her parents deaths rang out now...

"What did you say?!" Earl Haraldson challenged.

Lagertha would not continue this lie any longer. "My husband did not kill Knut Tjodolf!"

"Then who did?"

" _I did!_ " Lagetha sharply cried out, sure for all to hear. "I killed him! I stabbed him in the heart when he tried his best to rape me!"

"A murder is committed and the only witnesses are a husband and his wife..."

"Unfortunately, we can't tell who committed the crime because they both claim credit for it."Haraldson contemplated in silence before sharply turning to Lagertha. He pointed his finger damningly. "You didn't kill my brother. Look at you, how could you?" He mistook her small size and womanhood as weakness.

"Because she was better than him." Sassa spoke out, voice cutting through the clamoring of the crowd, enough for the Earl to catch.

Haraldson leaned in his seat towards her, Sassa dared not look away, even when her father's hand tightened its hold on her shoulder.

" _He_ killed my brother." His finger changed direction. " _Ragnar Lothbrok_ killed my brother."

"We have proof." Svein announced. "We have a witness to the killing."

Ragnar and his friends looked around the court, trying to see who dared to make such a false claim. You could imagine their surprise, and Ragnar's stilled heart, when it was his brother, Rollo, who stepped forward.

"You say you are a witness to the death of Knut Tjodolf?" Rollo confirmed Svein's question. "You'll swear this upon your arm ring?"

"Yes, I was there... I saw everything." He did not once look at his younger brother, even though Ragnar's unwavering gaze sent a cold through him.

"So...who killed my brother?" Earl Haraldson asked, already knowing the answer. Of course he did, as the night before he had promised great riches, favors, and the potential marriage of his daughter, if Rollo had done what was asked of him. Turn in his brother, and the world could be his. But this was a secret no one but he, his wife, and Rollo knew.

Finally the elder brother turned his brown eyes to meet Ragnar's blue. "Ragnar Lothbrok killed him." Steady, unwavering, and loud enough to nearly echo in the room. Ragnar's face slackened, a sickness taking fold of his stomach as he looked to the ground.

The Earl could barely hide his pleasure. "In cold blood?"

"No, Lord." The Earl's pleasure ceased. "For a good reason..." Rollo paused.

Haraldson turned to stare hard at the Viking, his eyes darting to his daughter to the side, reminding Rollo what he was about to lose. Rollo cared little, for the riches of the world and the warmth of the woman compared little to the love and honor of brothers and family.

"What Ragnar Lothbrok has sworn is true. Your half-brother was caught raping a Saxon woman. Then he attempted to rape Ragnar's lawful wife, Lagertha, _the shield-maiden_."Rollo graciously added to remind him. Lagertha smiled small but prideful. Yes, the love of family would always win out. "So, unfortunately, you cannot punish him." Rollo's smile was uncontrollable but small enough for most to miss. Not the Earl though, who's eyes burned bright in rage.

The Earl remained silently staring at Rollo. His hands gripped the seat of his throne till his knuckles were white and his jaw clenched painfully.

When Ragnar remained in chains Sassa moved to break through those in front of her before her father pulled her back with a strong grip on the fabric of her dress. Instead she stood tall on the tip of her toes to call out, "You have to let him go! - my Lord." She remembered to add. "Our very laws say so... And _no one_ is above _our_ laws." Sassa smirked a smirk filled with too much cruelty for such a young girl. "Not even the Earl's _bastard_ brother." Her pleasant tone belied her barbed words, spit the title like the true insult it was with narrowing eyes.

The Earl looked at the girl with such fury his eye twitched. Behind her, her father gripped tight to the cloth on her shoulders. His teeth were biting at his lip but a giggle still managing to escape. Ragnar smiled at Sassa's words as the crowd murmured their agreement.

"Now..." He lifted his shackled wrists "who has the key?"

* * *

The night was quiet, dark, and chilly, but inside the longhouse of Ragnar Lothbrok fire lit the home and ale and merriment flowed freely. Laughter and joyous songs could be heard throughout, as friends and family came to celebrate their new riches and freedom. But not all were having a great time.

Though he had taken his oath and had passed his birthday, Bjorn was not quite the 'man' he so desperately wanted to be just yet. He still had his boyish body, and such a small thing was not meant to be so filled with ale. By his second cup he was dizzy, and by his third he was stumbling and tired, no longer able to focus on the games of the wit nor balanced enough for the games of strength.

"Come, Bjorn!" Lagertha beckoned him to come to her as she laughed lovingly at his familiar dazed face, having seen it many times in that of her husband. Her son stumbled towards her, the only reason he'd not fallen into the fire as he went was the herding and guiding hands of those others seated around it, catching him when he swayed to close to the flames.

"Like father like son!" Erik laughed loudly, winking at Sassa.

The girl laughed, even as Bjorn nearly toppled her over when he fell to the floor in front of her. His head resting on his mothers lap as the world spun around him, her cool hand running through his cropped golden locks. Sassa paid him little mind, occasionally pushing on his shoulder or tugging his funny looking ears to make him move when he's fall back against her leg, effectively pinning it.

"So..." Sassa froze at the rather calm yet serious voice beside her. Her cup lowered and her eyes rose to meet those of Lagertha. "You want to become a sheildmaiden." The older woman's tone held a hint of question to her statement, as if wondering if that was what she really desired rather than what she simply thought she did.

Sassa's throat was dry under the woman's intense gaze, not threatening, not belittling, just searching. Searching for worth no doubt. Lagertha's blue eyes looked over the girl up close, enjoying how she had caught her off guard. Mid celebration she was much more cheerful, less stoic now that she was no longer under Ragnar's and Floki's proud gaze. At the young girl's hesitant but firm nod Lagertha smirked.

"You already knwo how to use a bow? A sheild?"

"Better than most." It was as humble answer she could be with full honesty. "At least with a bow and knife. Floki's not one for shields, luckily Helga remembered her mother teaching her and taught me. It's only the sword I have little practice with..." She trailed off in her ramblings, looking to her father playing a game with two other men. "I think my father realized if I knew how to, there'd be little stopping me from raiding." She bit her lip. "Helga worries for me, most people do. I know he doesn't seem very fatherly but... he loves me. In his own way." She smiled fondly, a teasingly little smirk as she looked back at Lagertha. "Then again my father always has his own way of doing things."

Lagertha had to chuckle at that. "Very good. If you're to be on the next boats come summer you'll need to be ready." She casually drank her ale.

Summer, _next_ summer...

Sassa's mouth settled into a straight line as she tensed her jaw, a habit she did when trying to hide her feelings as she processed information. It seemed so close, and yet so far away. Would it really be that easy? To be a girl one month and then a shieldmaiden another?

"You'll train as I did. In the winter."

"The winter?"

Lagertha looked at her from the corner of her eye. "Yes. Why? Can you not-"

"I can do it." She stubbornly snipped, both sure of her abilities and too prideful to let Lagertha assume otherwise.

The blonde woman smiled. "Of that, I have no doubt." She touched Sassa's face gently as she had the realization that, like Bjorn, these children would not be children any longer. The thought made her heart ache. What she wouldn't give to have another babe in her arms, boy or not. _They grow up so quickly..._

Sassa's lips turned their own corners, breaking into a smile followed by a grin as she realized what had just begun. It was the happiest night of her life, and not a single thing could ruin it.

Except for one.

Bjorn fell against her legs once more. However this time his entire back trapped them both, while the force of his frame nearly sent her toppling back off her seat. She regained her balance enough not to spill all over herself. His head lulled back onto her knee as his heavy eyes blinked up at her grimacing face to stay awake. Around her the adults laughed, enjoying the childish interaction between them. Sassa did not. She briefly wondered if Lagertha would still train her if she kicked him into the fire...

...Probably not.

Leif, Erik's son, lifted his horn of ale high and called for a toast. "Let's drink a toast to Ragnar! To his future and his freedom!"

"No, no, no, no." Ragnar stopped them. "To _friends_ and freedom!"

"To friends and freedom!" They echoed.

"Not that he'll ever be free of us!" One particular drunk man embraced Ragnar in a clumsy hug as he fell before venturing off in search of more ale. The party resumed, the spirits livened, and all but one corner of the home was alight in loud banter or games.

Ragnar turned to the priest, secluded and quiet beside him. "Will you drink with me?" He offered the smaller man a horn of ale.

"Of course." Athelstan took the horn graciously, happy but not nearly as lively as the other occupant. They were just so...loud. All the time. Happy, angry, sad, tired, these people in this world had no qualms about making their feelings known. It was quite a change to the humble and quiet monastery in which he had lived and the country in which he'd been born.

"Thank you for taking care of my children." Ragnar surprised him with his humble and sincere gratitude. Athelstan did not know what to say to that, as stating that his failure to do so would mean his death seemed rude and taunting, as well as the memory of Bjorn's words rang clearly in his head. It was true, he had looked after the children, but was a mere observer as Bjorn and Gyda fished and farmed and Sassa brought meats and company.

"Sassa helped." He found himself replying.

Ragnar looked to the girl in question at the other end of the fire, a smile lighting his lips as he watched her converse with his wife as she pushed his drunken son away from her legs time and time again, only for her to grow frustrated and kick him to wake him up. A quiet laugh escaped his throat as he turned back to the priest. He had expected as much, for Bjorn was headstrong and stubborn but still not as stubborn as she. "You're a good Christian." He complimented. Athelstan's smile faltered, wondering if he somehow knew the struggles he lately faced in his faith...

They were soon joined by Lagertha, their children with Rollo, and their attention stolen by Floki. "Ragnar!" Called the boat builder. "Did you see Haraldson's face when he had to acquit you, and then give you half his hoard? He looked like _this_!" Floki tensed his arms and fists as if he was in a chair and pinched his face with wide eyes until it became red. The room erupted in laughter at the rather apt if not just slightly exaggerated expression.

Sassa grew rather hot next to the fire and excused herself to check the horses. The night was slightly chilled, a strong breeze moving through the farmlands and making her hair dance. She found herself drawn to the Lodbrooks pure white horse, a beautiful creature that seemed too fair to simply be a farm horse. As she approached it's pen a raucous form the side of the home caught her attention. A thunk, a groan, the sound of muffled pain. Sassa hurried to the source only to stop at the sight. Three men held the giant viking Erik, one of whom with his hand on the axe impeded in his stomach. They dropped their hands form his mouth, his knees giving out.

"Sassa, run!" Erik groaned as the blade was ripped from his belly. She looked from his face to his captors, now aware of her presence, before turning to do just that. Though usually fast and quiet like a mouse, Sassa did everything in her power to be loud.

"Ragnar!" Sassa nearly crashed into the fire with how quickly she ran in through the door. Though it wasn't much warning it was enough to sober the vikings enough to be alert and attentive. Mere moments later three armed men enter the door, with many more behind them. Everyone stood as they entered, mirroring two others who barged in from the back door, all with weapons raised and ready. One stopping right behind Sassa's small frame, his raised axe far too close to her head for anyone's comfort.

"Ragnar Lothbrok?" The man questioned.

Ragnar showed his weaponless hands, "I am unarmed." He looked to the small girl who seemed all too aware of her vulnerable predicament, unwilling to risk moving but unable to just stand still, her feet restlessly shifted, preparing herself. Turning to his wife, he gave a simple order loud enough for his brother Rollo to hear. "Get the children."

No quarrel with a man may be taken out on his wife and children, thus any violence in a residence could not lawfully take place until the women and children were permitted to leave. It was a simple but important law to their people, and as such was expected to be followed by any man of honor. But as Sassa was quickly realizing, there were few men of honor in this world.

The simple order acted like a war cry and suddenly weapons were swung. The moment Lagertha made a move to grab Sassa, the man's axe reared back and aimed for Sassa's head. The younger woman dropped low out of the way, and grabbing the hot poker from the fire swung it, seared the man's face. He swung the axe blindly towards her, Sassa retreating back from the sharp blade and into Lagertha's arms as Floki's axe cut through his neck.

"Hurry!" Lagertha gathered the girl and pushed her towards Rollo. The giant of a man opened his arm and held her close with Gyda and a dazed Bjorn. He kept them close to the wall using his body to shield them from harm's way. He and Lagertha moved through the fight before reaching the backdoor. "Take them from here until I call for you!" Lagertha ordered Sassa, pushing them from the home and looking around for anymore threat. The dark and peaceful night outside was a stark contrast to the violent bloodshed inside. They were only children, and the idea these men would break the most firm of laws and attack with children present sent a frenzy through the defending group.

As they hurried out the back and into the woods, Sassa caught one last glimpse of the battle from the open doorway. Her father and his axe hacking away without tire at the face of the man who dare threaten her.


	4. 1x05 : The Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: MA / Explicit for a scene of vivid imagery of sexual situation and thoughts.

Run boy run! They're dying to stop you  
Run boy run! This race is a prophecy  
Run boy run! Break out from society  
Tomorrow is another day  
And you won't have to hide away  
You'll be a man, boy!  
But for now it's time to run, it's time to run!

Woodkid : Run Boy Run

* * *

**Glory & Gore**

**Chapter 4:**

_**The Raven  
** _

* * *

There was a calmness to the day that Sassa should have taken as a bad sign. Her father had always said, too much happiness, too much _peace_ , was a warning from the gods. A last feast if you will, before the war.

On that day, it was far too calm. The woods were unusually sunny. And her catch had been far too plentiful. Unnerved, and with her father and his lover Helga occupied, Sassa took to the waters as her people usually did. She rowed down the shoreline, catching more fish for a winter stock as she went. She found herself steering ashore a familiar piece of farmland. The girl dropped the small rock anchor and dragged the boat higher on the shore. Bow and arrow in hand, she made her way up the beach and through the brush.

Bjorn, having been busy doing chores, could not say he was displeased to see her emerging from the woods. "What are you doing?" He stopped restocking their small fishing boat to glare at her. Both children knew his glare had no effect on her. This time his gaze was more suspicious then it was angry.

Truth be told, Sassa did not know. She simply seeked company and her search had led her here. "I..." _Missed you_ , did not sound appropriate. It would give the boy the wrong idea. "I-I've come for a visit. To make sure Gyda was okay" she firmly decided. But Bjorn continued his narrow gaze and, for once, Sassa felt the urge to fidget under it.

"Isn't it dangerous?" His father and mother had warned him just the other day that his sister and he were not to leave the farmlands without them. Not to hunt, not to fish, not even if one of the pigs escaped... Ragnar and Lagertha had promised a frightened Gyda there was nothing to be troubled by, but Bjorn, ever perceptive, had the feeling it had to do with the men that had attacked them a week prior. "Especially for you?" He looked at her small size.

"I manage perfectly fine on my own, little boy."

That had done it. Suspicion turned into a familiar anger, and this time Sassa found herself more comfortable by the boy's glare. "I am _not_ a _little boy_. I am a man!" He showed the golden arm ring on his wrist. Sassa laughed at his attempts.

"Men do not need to prove they are men. And if they do, they are not very _good_ ones." She mocked him.

"You are only three years older!" Bjorn wanted to grind his teeth at her musical laugh, always directed at him it seemed.

"Three years older. Meaning three years stronger, and smarter, and faster." She corrected. Bjorn looked at her with that displeased pinched expression he got whenever she pointed out such things and he did not know how to reply. But for once, Sassa was not interested in picking fights with the boy, however much she enjoyed the way his face wrinkled, and his ears turned pink. "Where is your father?" She wanted to ask Ragnar a question, eager to see if he and his wife would uphold their promise.

"Hunting." Bjorn clipped as his face softened. He do did not wish for a fight on such a lovely day. "Where is yours?"

"Fucking." She so blatantly replied as she glanced at him. Talk of such things still made Bjorn blush, especially coming from a girl. Sassa smiled at the faint pink in his cheeks. "See, you are still a little boy." She went to pinch at his cheeks, unable to resist poking fun. She was, after all, her father's daughter.

Bjorn pushed her hand away and foolishly stepped back. She tried again, he took another step back. A familiar glimmer of mischief sparked in her green eyes. Bjorn's face dropped to fright as a smirk overcame her full lips. For a moment they both froze before Bjorn caved under the pressure. He turned to run. And soon enough they laughed as she chased him around the fishing boat. A game of tag interrupting his chores. Bjorn realized his mother and father may not be please but as they both rather likes Sassa he was sure they would make an exception. It felt nice just to play as children do. Round and round they went, running as fast as they could in the sand and over boats, before Sassa's ears registered a short whistle over their laughter. She stopped short when an arrow landed on another boat besides the boy.

Bjorn, seeing her suddenly open mouth and furrowed gaze, stopped as well. "What?" He still held a tinkering laugh of amusement, on guard in case she dare try and trick him. But Sassa had lost the mood for games as an unsettling feeling overtook her. Seeing her focus shifted, Bjorn too became more serious. "What?" He repeated. All laughter was gone.

Sassa's open mouth opened wider to explain when another whistle sounded. This time it landed with a squish instead. Sassa and Bjorn both looked towards the sound. An older man from one of the other properties fell to the beach with an arrow standing from his chest. Bjorn, a naive boy, went to investigate as Sassa's eyes turned further up the shore.

The red and black shields of the Earl stood tall with the archers, and horses and aimed arrows.

The calm was over. The gods test began.

Sassa's mouth opened wide, and with a deep breath she screamed for all those to hear, "RUN!" The crowds attention was collected in time for more arrows to be knotted and fired.

These were not soldiers, but younglings, and old folks, farmers, and fishermen. This was not a battle, it was a slaughter. The Earl's men released more arrows, and the farm folk took off in screams of their own. Their people had not been raided in many years, promised the protection from the same man that now hunted them.

"Run, you stupid _boy_!" She grabbed Bjorn's hand when he refused to move and took off running as fast as she could. But human feet running in sand are no match for the hooved ones of horses. As fast as they ran, people behind them were still cut down mercilessly by the Earl's men on horse back. The archers took aim once more and fired. In all the chaos Sassa managed to peak over her shoulder to see an arrow looming down on them. She pushed Bjorn out of the way, sending him tumbling into the sand as the arrow pierced her shoulder. She screamed of pure pain at the unfamiliar sensation.

Bjorn's blue eyes were wide as he stared at her, the force of the impact nearly topping her onto her knees. His head turned seeing the dirt and path hidden in the trees. The hard soil would allow them to run faster and home quicker. This time it was Bjorn who grabbed her hand. Pulling her to her feet, he ripped the arrow from the shoulder. The boy cringed at the sharp scream that came from her. Grabbing her hand tightly in his own, he ran, leading her to their farm.

* * *

In the home of Ragnar Lothbrok, the screams of others disrupted the quiet of the longhouse. Lagertha stopped cutting carrots for their dinner, listening closely as the far too familiar sounds of a raid grew closer. She kept the knife in hand as she peaked through the home's door, aghast at what she saw. Red and black shields. There own people, raiding and butchering all those in sight.

"We're under attack." She alerted them with a misplaced calmness "Gyda!" Lagertha gave little warning before she placed the knife she held in her daughter's hands. Gyda was clearly frozen, holding its handle tightly with unsteady hands. She looked to the priest, who shared a wide eyed gaze with her that the mother missed. Two gentle souls thrust into a rather volatile situation with little notice. Athelstan's memory was thrown back to the monastery with no notice, his knees almost shaking as they begged him to drop and hide as he once had.

_And look where that got you_ , his mind sneered.

"Where is Bjorn?" Lagertha's cutting words snatched away Athelstan's attention. He dropped the log into the fire, completing the task her previous words had froze him in. He wasted little time scurrying to the other door, opening it in time to see a small blonde boy rush through the woods towards them, a familiar darker head being pulled behind.

"Sassa?" He was most surprised to see the girl as they scurried into the safety of the home. He closed the door with an almost slam as he turned to follow, quickly noticing the red stain growing from her shoulder. Blood. "You're hurt."

Obviously. Sassa gritted her teeth, nearly snarling at the blatant observation as she gripped Bjorn's hand in her own. A slight squeeze, perhaps for comfort, perhaps from pain, but a squeeze all the same. Tightening, then releasing, as she tore her hand from his.

"Take this." Lagertha directed her son, handing him an axe and doing the same with the priest. She paused only slightly to look at the wound on Sassa's shoulder, taking note of the bow clutched in her slightly shaking hand.

A look towards her mismatched green eyes let her know it was pain not fear. "Are you alright?" She asked simply. Are you dying?, was the unspoken reality.

Sassa gave one firm nod of her head, the child she rarely got to be once more pushed far away as her mouth straightened into a serious straight line. She would be fine.

"What shall we do? Should we run?" Bjorn asked, not as confident as his mother but not as scared as his sister. Gyda stayed behind them all, nearly curling in on herself with the simple knife clutched in her hands. Her shoulder hunched as if using all her strength to keep it up and pointed towards the door. Beyond it, the sound of raiding came and went, horses and men running pass to chop down those who tried to run much in the way the boy suggested.

"No, we stay." Lagertha dismissed the idea as foolhardy. The children would be cut down like the rest of them and she had not the arms needed to both attack and defend as would be needed. "Your father will be back." She assured.

"But there are too many of them!" Bjorn objected. It sounded like a whine and Sassa looked at him as if annoyed. _Oh yes, certainly a man_. She snorted.

"Stay strong." She picked up her shield with one hand, her sword with the other. A look of war came over her face as she ordered them to be ready. Standing in front of her children and the frozen priest, she felt a flame of respect when a knotted and pointed arrow came into her peripheral vision.

More beside than behind, Sassa's feet stood firmly planted, her hand clutching her bow and arrow tightly as it pointed towards the door. Her arm screamed for her to put it down, the tension on her shoulder seeming to make the wound bleed more. But Sassa did not budge. Her mouth became a grin line, her eyes following soon after as she focused on the shadow spotted through the doors woven holes.

Focus, she ordered her mind, her finger itching to release the bow as the door opened.

"Wait!" Lagertha commanded her. Ragnar, limping, sweating, bleeding, and oh so tired, leaned against the doorway for a moment to catch his breath, clutching at his aching side.

Sassa lowered the arrow in equal reliefe, her flaring shoulder dulling to a thunderous throbbing as soon as her arms fell to hang in front of her.

"Father!" Bjorn ran to him with his mother, bringing him further inside as they closed the door.

"You're hurt." She made the same observation the priest had with Sassa. And like Sassa, his shoulder was punctured and bloody, but it was little compared to his other injuries. His leg had been badly cut, and his side had taken a few nasty punctures and slashes. Blood ran from his body freely, dripping quickly from his fingers despite how tightly he gripped his side to stop it.

Where Sassa was in no danger of keeling over anytime soon, the same could not be said for the farmer.

"We have to go now." He wasted little time, limping the best he could out of his family's embrace and towards the back of the home.

"What's happening?" Bjorn begged for information, not understanding why their own people were attacking them and certainly not sure what to do about it.

Ragnar did not answer, dropping to his knees at the back of the home he lifted loose floorboards, an escape route for times like these when he had first built the house. His wife had not had to use them for many years, not since Gyda was still in her belly. Those years of safety and security brought on by the same man that know forced them into use once more.

"Father, please tell me?" Bjorn begged.

"We have to get to the boat." Was all his father said. Ragnar wheezed, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to stand. He couldn't stop. He couldn't lay down. Too much was left to do. Things to do, things to do, the trio of words repeated in his mind pushing him to keep going.

They surrounded the boat." Bjorn informed. They had attacked the beach first for that very reason: destroy the boats, kill those in the open, those who had nowhere to hide...

Ragnar froze at the words. The smallest details overlooked led to such horrible repercussions.

"Not mine." A younger feminine voice spoke, with a surety that certainly wasn't Gyda's. Ragnar turned around, facing the source. He at Sassa as if fully realizing she was actually here.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He said in wonder.

"Enjoying the day." Her lips twitched in a smirk. "Saving your lives." She remarked offhandedly. Ragnar nearly flinched a smirk. Not at all bothered she appeared, hiding her pain rather well.

"Are you coming?" Lagertha asked, as she dropped into the passageway, just large enough for a man of Ragnar's size to crawl through on their knees.

"Go." He would not confirm nor deny. "Quickly, Gyda!" He helped her in next, the girl giving no thought in crawling after her mother. "Come on, boy." Ragnar turned towards his son as the priest went in next, kindly taking Sassa's bow from her as she started lowering herself in.

Bjorn made no move to go next. "Father, I won't go without you." He shouted in a rare scene of disobedience, adamant his place was here.

"Boy, don't argue!" Ragnar's voice rose in shortening temper.

"Father, I don't want to go without you!" His son cried again.

"Ragnar Lothbrok!", a voice called outside the house.

Ragnar looked to his son, his eyes softening at the near tears in the boy's own familiar blue gaze. He touched his face gently, a tender caress to brush away the tear that slipped free. "I'm right behind you." He promised softly. An assurance with such conviction it made Bjorn's feet unhook from the floor. His father pushed him towards the only escape from certain death. "Now go!" He ordered his son, kneeling on the floor to lower himself down, but still not trying to escape.

When he still did not move, two small hands re-emerged from the dark tunnel. Grabbing onto the boy's shirt from behind, they gave a ruthless tug and swiftly pulled the boy into it.

_Sassa_.

Ragnar sealed the entrance to the tunnel, hurrying them along through the cracks in the floorboard. "Go, go!" He yelled. The children grunted and hissed like wild animals at each other as they straightened themselves out.

"He'll be fine!" Sassa hissed. She pushed Bjorn before her, unwilling to come back to get him a second time. Her green eyes rose, catching sight of a bloody man not yet defeated through the floorboards. She challenged him with her eyes, a simple command.

Don't make me a liar.

Ragnar nodded in appreciation. A silent promise to her as well before they both turned to continue their separate missions. Each leading to her boat…

Sassa struck the bottom of Bjorn's foot every time his crawling slowed, reminding him that he could not turn around or get around her in the narrowing tunnel so there was no point in trying.

Screams and roaring fires were what met them when they finally exited the tunnel. Hunched low and close behind a thick bush, the group waited with baited breath for Lagertha to decide when to move. Their opportunity came when a group of women were chased down the beach away from them. "Come on." Lagertha kept her daughter close, under her arm and by her side, as they bent low and ran towards the wooded area. Athelstan handed Sassa her bow, taking over her duties yet again as he planted his hand on the boy's back. He kept pushing and pushing, keeping Bjorn moving forward, and never giving him a chance to turn back.

The screams of a woman sharp and echoing pierced the air. For the first time, Sassa froze. Her body straightened, eyes peering over the wild bush to search for the source. A woman being dragged by two men away from the water, their hands clawing at her mercilessly as she begged them to stop. Sassa stood taller.

"Sassa." Lagertha called. She turned to the woman, begging guidance. Or perhaps permission…

She wasn't aware her arrow was ready and pointed until her shoulder flared in pain.

The shieldmaiden's eyes were filled with soft pity. "You can not help her." Sassa's finger tightened, knowing the truth but unwilling to accept it. She knew what would happen to that woman. The same things that happen to all women during raids…

"Sassa." She called again, firmer.

Sassa cast her eyes back to the scene. One arrow. Four men. Sassa's jaw tightened, her eyes lighting with rage as she came to terms with the truth. As quickly as she had stopped, she resumed. Her body crouched low behind the bushes, her feet moving silently and without pause as she pushed past them to lead the way.

Her finger remained tense, her grip unyielding despite the pain growing in her shoulder. SHe could feel the blood slide down her chest now, like warm rain in the sun.

The boat was where she left it on the shore of the lesser known river. Unnoticed, and undamaged in the flurry of activity. It did, however, appear to be guarded. A single man walked towards the boat to investigate, cutting them off as they were forced to stop in the woods.

This time Sassa didn't hesitate. She rose to her full unintimidating height from the brush, catching his attention just as the arrow released from her bow. They ran quicker, knowing where there was one there was always more. Sassa didn't even stop as she clutched the arrow and yanked it from what was once his eye.

"Get down. Hurry!" Lagertha ordered the children, pushing them to lay flat on the bottom of the boat. She brought the small stone anchor in with her, leaving Athelstan to push them from the shore. She held her children close to her, looking up to the traitorously calm blue sky.

What a beautiful day to lose everything.

Athelstan lay beside Sassa, both equal parts exhausted, unminding of the fish corpses from her earlier catch below their heads. It was quite clear she had not expected to bring home guests tonight.

Athelstan turned his head, studying her. Her expression was pinched in pain but overall calm. Displeased, more than anything. He thought back to their first meetings, how intense she was, how dismissive and calm. His eyes lowered to her shoulder, seeing blood coat her hand as it applied pressure.

"How are you?" He asked, wondering if there was anything he could do to help. It felt so odd, to be scared and running and then expected to lie motionless and calm.

Sassa's eyes rolled to the side, glancing at him in confusion before turning upwards to the sky. She hadn't been lying. She really had been enjoying the day…

"I always enjoy a calm float after a busy day hunting. Don't you?" Her head rolled towards him then, eyes looking at him as if expecting an answer. Athelstan stared back, silenced.

Hearing horses travel away, they waited for the coming silence before daring to raise up. Their heads rose just enough to gaze out the boat. Unlike the calm blue sky, there was nothing peaceful or comforting about their new sight.

The house was engulfed in flames as were the crops. Every bit of livestock: from the goats to the pigs, the dogs, and the horses, all lay dead in the sand.

No food, no shelter, no way to barter or trade. Even if the family had survived the attack they would be at the mercy of their tribe for survival. Just as the Earl had planned. Without them even knowing it, a bounty of silver and rank had been promised to those who turned them in.

Gyda whimpered, the first to sink away from the sight as she returned her eyes to the calm sky. Lagertha soon followed, bringing Bjorn down as well. She held her children trying to comfort them in silence as she forced herself to remember Ragnar's plan. They floated in silence to some destination on Lagertha seemed to have in mind.

As they came across a high cliff some time later, Lagertha perked up. "There!" She shouted, her voice hoarse from emotion and the unexpected shout. "Thee he is!" She pointed to a cliff far overhead.

Sure enough Ragnar stood on the curving edge, looking even worse than he had before as his footing began to slip past the flat top. He swayed, tired and dizzy as he looked down at his family and friends. Five very hopeful faces, looking at him as if he had risen from the dead.

He certainly felt like it.

With one look back at the men that dared chase him, he let his knees give out as they so eagerly begged him to. He fell forward, bring forth disbelief and screams as his limp body flipped through the air before splashing with a mighty sound.

It took some time for the water to settle, returning to its gentler waves as the river continued to flow around him. Still he did not emerge.

"Where is he? Can you see him?" Lagertha asked.

"Where is Father? He's there somewhere." Hopeful, but timid, Bjorn willed himself to peer as deep as he could for any trace of his father swimming back to them.

"I don't think he was awake." Sassa admitted.

Lagertha and Athelstan looked to her making her feel bad for her careless words. But they were the words they needed to hear. Athelstan wasted no time pushing past the wife and children and diving into the water after him.

"Where are they?" Bjorn begged for answers. His father promised. Sassa had promised.

They seemed to have lied.

Bjorn turned to the girl in question tilted slightly out the boat, with one hand holding the boat and the other holding her shoulder. For a moment he considered pushing her in as well.

The small waves were disturbed with a heavy splash and a gasp. Athelstan emerged. Ragnar tucked under his arm. Unconscious as Sassa had assumed.

"Father!" Gyda screamed with joy. The family eagerly pulled the heavy man aboard, Sassa extending her good arm to help Athelstan into the boat behind him.

"Is he dead? He's dead, isn't he?" Bjorn nearly wept.

"Shut. Up!" Sassa told him, slapping him upside the head when Athelstan was in the boat. If you speak of a man as dead, he already was… It was a curse.

"He will be fine. We need to get him to my father." Sassa pulled the rope she used from her fishing nest, handing it to Lagertha. "Help him row." She ordered Bjorn. He stayed still glaring at her, unwilling to obey her.

"Bjorn." Lagertha called. He snapped to attention. She gave a slight nod towards the ores. For his mother, not for Sassa, Bjorn made it clear as he glowered. Athelstan did not need help, but perhaps it was best if his mind was preoccupied with something. Lagertha looked to Sassa, believing the girl to have known this too. "Thank you." She whispered. Not from fear or shame, but so that it came out clear and not the cracked anguished cry it very well might had she dared to raise her voice. _How had things gone so wrong..._

* * *

" _Floki!"_ Bjorn wasted no time leaping from the boat and charging up the beach towards the house. " _Floki!_ " His voice pitched and crackled with the strain, the sound no doubt echoing in the woods like some inhuman creature. " _Floki!_ " He was quickly using what little calm he had, his worry quickly replacing with anger.

The door to the home finally opened. A woman, clearly not the boat builder, kept one hand on the door as she stepped out to see the commotion. She stood before him unabashedly nude, her pale blonde hair covering only her breasts. Her fair thin features pinching as she looked at him. "Who are you?" A mix of amusement and worried curiosity coating her tone.

"I must speak with Floki." Bjorn begged, his breath heaving and raged. "Is he here?" His voice cracked at the sudden lower volume he took.

The woman looked towards the door just as Floki emerged. His shirt was gone and his dark pants were just finished being pulled on as he pulled an apple from his mouth with a slight crunch.

"Bjorn?" Floki coughed mid-swallow.

"My father is dying and Sassa is hurt." It was a simple statement, a much calmer tone than that which befit his drumming heart. In one quick motion he turned around, retreating back to the boat with Floki hot on his heals. The apple rolled down the dirt hill, dropped and forgot along with all other thought as the duo ran to the blood wetted boat.

Lagertha and the priest carried an unconscious Ragnar over their shoulders, his feet digging light trails in the softer dirt as he was dragged.

For a moment Floki froze, looking back at his daughter helping Gyda out of the boat. His eyes dropped to her shoulders seeing the red stain. Sassa was quick to note his eyes. Wider and wilder than they had been in some time, the sudden memory of the last time Ragnar's home had been disturbed crept into the forefront of her mind.

"I'm fine." The change in her town was noticeable to those that heard her. Soft, but firm, a meekness to it that was so unlike her. Instead it was more akin to how one might try and placate a wild animal.

And it worked.

Though a bit doubtful, Floki's attention turned to the man more in need of help. Pushing the priest away he bent below Ragnar's arm, taking the brunt of his weight as he shuffled him quickly into the safety of the home.

"Helga, get the bark of the ash, and the garlic, and the sage. Get the sage!" Floki hollered as he and Lagertha pulled Ragnar in. Helga, now dressed, wasted no time in scurrying about. Lagertha and Floki took great care in laying him down, crouching beside him and the fire. "We make a paste to put on the wounds. But first we must clean them. And the only way to make them clean is with fire." Lagertha looked alarmed, not wanting to cause her husband anymore pain, as she gently stroked his face. He looked so pale.

"Bjorn, get more logs back there." Floki directed the boy. "A knife. I need a -" Floki stopped mid sentence seeing a hand extend a dagger. He looked up, nodding at his well prepared daughter before taking it from her. He placed the logs in the fire, building the heat of the embers before placing the blade into the flames.

Sassa took a seat out of the way, the thudding in her heart slowing, and with it the energy to keep moving. She swayed just slightly, drawing her father and Gyda's gaze. The young girl didn't hesitate to come to her side, sitting beside her and holding her hand. It was as much a comfort to her as it was an encouragement for Sassa. They sat silently, watching with impatient eyes as the dagger's metal heated and burned.

When it was finally hot enough, Floki carefully removed it from the fire.

"Give that to me." Lagertha demanded with no room for argument. Her voice was hoarse and her face covered in fresh and drying tears. Floki did not argue.

The shieldmaiden raised the blade towards the sky above. "I dedicate this blade to the goddess. To Freya. Wisdom might you give us, Freya, and healing hands while we live."

"Hail to the Aesir." Bjorn finished.

Beside Sassa, Gyda spoke, her voice stronger than that of her mother or brother. "Please Freya, heal my father." A voice filled with unbridled hope and belief that belied her shaking form.

Gyda looked away, not one for blood. Certainly not when that blood was her father's. She turned her head burying it into Sassa's well shoulder as Lagertha pressed the blade into her father's leg. The wound there bleed deeper, a small fountain trickling and bubbling around them as the fire broke open the wound only to cauterize it closed once more.

"For everything there is a season-" Sassa's eyes were the only ones that moved. The priest spoke softly though loud enough for all to hear. "-and a time for every matter under the sun. A time to be born, a time to die; A time to plant, and to pluck up what is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal Mary mother of God, listen to me. Do not let this man die."

Ragnar remained unconscious as Floki sprinkled and stuffed the herb paste over his wound, the same routine repeated with the torn flesh at his side and shoulder.

Gyda sniffled into Sassa's shoulder, trying her best to inhale the smell of seawater and trees rather than that of her father's searing flesh. In a shy moment of comfort, Sassa's arm awkwardly reaching up to stroke her hair. Neither noticed, nor minded, the streaks of blood it left.

* * *

Their sanctuary grew quiet as night settled around the boat makers home. As soon as Ragnar's wounds were tended too and his breathing had stabilized, the day's events seemed to have caught up with them all at once. Lagertha held her children close to her as she stared into the fire. Across them, Sassa took her own turn under the heated metal of the blade.

It had fallen to Helga to probe and seal the wound when her father's usually steady hands seemed to take on a slight tremble. Perhaps it was the sudden haze of exhaustion that seemed to take over them, or perhaps it was the sight of his own daughters bleeding and torn flesh that had left him a little less confident in his actions. For whatever reason, Floki had handed Helga the herbs and knife, walking away to busy himself with skinning the animals Sassa brought back.

Sassa sat still as could be, her loose woven tunic pulled far down her shoulder. She bent at the waist on her seat, her arms wrapped around her legs in a tight hold. She tried to hide her discomfort and pain with her head tucked down. She didn't have the luxury of slumber Ragnar did as Helga burned the wound close.

"Not so quick this time, ay?" Helga mused, gently probing the wound to place the poultice. It was a rather clean wound, through and through, with no apparent damage to her bones or muscles. The flesh was red and angry around the wound, but not nearly as angry as her.

The fire in her eyes didn't come from the reflection of the flames, but rather a deep seeded anger. Her eyes narrowed at the boy in front of her. "Only because I had to move him out of the way." She defended, never one to take well to her skills being undermined. "Why are you so slow?" She sneered, remembering how he stood there dumbly.

"I'm not the one with a hole in my arm." Having the rare upper hand, Bjorn didn't think to hold back.

It only infuriated her more. "It was my arm or your heart, you stupid boy!" Her arms released her legs, her body raised off her seat in a flurry of blind fury. Helga pushed her good arm to settle her back down. Like the wild animal she was too often left around, she was ready to lunge, her pride not taking to be wounded nearly as gracefully as her shoulder would.

"You saved my son?" Lagertha asked, quietly awed.

"No!"

"Yes!" Sassa glowered as low as narrow as she could at his objection.

"I would have been fine!" Bjorn's ears tinted red, glad his father and sister were probably not hearing this.

"Ha! With an arrow in your heart and your head axed off your shoulder." She scoffed.

"The ones without holes?" He sneered back.

Sassa snarled, a low growl in her throat as she threatened to attack. There was only so far a dog would be pushed before biting.

"Bjorn." Lagertha commanded him to silence. She was in no mood after tending to her husband. For the umpteenth time that day, Lagertha was grateful for the girl's unexpected presence. When she was healed enough to hold a sword, they would begin her training. She would need it soon if she was to raid in the summer. And after the day's events, Lagertha would be honored to have her beside them.

Ragnar was right.

The gods had great things planned for her.

* * *

Sassa nearly moaned as she raised from the water. The heat of the hot spring felt wonderful on her aching muscles. Lagertha had kept to her plan, fulfilling the promise she had previously made. Though unhealed, the moment the girl's shoulder was strong enough to lift a sword, they had begun her training.

Pain made you stronger. The winter made you tougher. If you could fight well bloody, pained, and freezing, you should have no problem fighting healthy, warm, and prepared.

Sassa, like her father, saw no flaw in this reasoning. And two weeks after they had started, the change in her arms were beginning to take shape.

Her fingers gently probed at the area around her wound thoughtlessly as she rubbed the aching muscles. Angry and red, it would most definitely scar on both ends. " _Stupid_ boy." She found herself sighing once more. "Stupid _me_." She chortled, lowering her hands to the ends of her long hair. She should of let the arrow hit him, the ungrateful brat.

Her nimble fingers threaded through her long dark locks, a spill of rich brown that floated around her head. They felt as soft as the water itself as she made sure to undo the ties and knots that may have formed in her bathing. The inky tendrils falling around to shield her from the cold of the winter winds that broke through the steam.

The slight whistle of wind comforted her, the bubbling of the hotter springs above and the coos and hums of nature soothing her soul. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to just float and be. With a deep breath, she submerged herself completely.

In an attempt to prolong her peace as long as she could, she missed the distant call of her name growing closer.

Floki has sent the boy looking for his daughter, needing her help with a project Bjorn was dismissed from before he could even offer.

His eyes caught a figure in the water. He approached closer, curious but not expecting. With a small gasp Sassa emerged, standing tall to wring out the water in her hair.

He knew it was wrong. That Floki, if not Sassa herself, would take his eyes if he was caught. Yet he found himself unable to move, to speak, to turn away as he stared.

His logic failed him as he watched her stand from the water, a look of peace he had never seen crossing her face before. Her usually pinched features were relaxed, her narrowed eyes softly hooded but otherwise open and unguarded. The lips so usually turns towards an expressionless line, sneer, or displeased frown were slightly parted, puffs of breath escaping in the cold air to mingle with the steam rising from the springs. The heat had given her skin a slight flush, the faintest bit of pink crossing her cheeks, and nose.

For the first time since his father said it, Bjorn could see the truth. She did, indeed, have a beautiful face. But what he was not prepared for was the beauty of the rest of her…

From the column of her neck, to the swell of her petite breasts, to faint flair of her high hips, he took in all he could of her before she was hidden by water.

It was not the first time he had seen a naked woman, nor was it the first time he'd felt a physical reaction to one.

But it was the first time he felt his tongue feel heavy, his eyes following the water that fell from her hair and trailed down her body. It was not the first time he felt the reaction below his belt, but it was the first time he'd felt it in his chest, a thumping, almost painful drumming of his heart beating faster and faster. Perhaps from knowing what would happen if he was caught, or perhaps from the ideas that slipped into his mind without warning.

If he touched her petite breast, would it mold to his hand or stay firm against his palm? If he pressed his lips to her skin, would it feel warm? Would it be as soft as it looked? Would it taste like salt or the spring water that glistened over her? And if his lips touched her, without her frown, would she press them back?

He'd hope they'd press back...

Bjorn shook himself of his stupor and tried to correct his mistake. He stepped back, trying to quietly leave, as if he had never been there, but it was clearly early on who the gods favored.

Bjorn's entire body froze as the tell tale snap of a branch sounded under foot. His eyes were as wide as Sassa's as she looked to the source, her gaze connecting with his.

The innocent water nymph was gone, the valkyrie in her place once more. Her features hardened, her eyes narrowed as she dropped her knees, submerging herself in the water and out of his still wide eyed sight. "Get out!" She spat, lifting her head just enough to spit the words at him before submerging her mouth once more. Only her eyes, narrowed and more deadly than he had ever seen them, remained in his view above the water.

Bjorn blushed a brighter red than she had ever seen, his ears, his cheeks, and even his neck lighting up as if his face had been held under the hot water longer than it could stand. "Ser-Sorry." He stuttered.

"Leave!" She yelled, spitting the water that entered her mouth in his direction.

Bjorn stumbled in his attempt to back track, slipping and falling onto his ass before scurrying away. He was so panicked by the idea of what Floki would do when he found out, he had momentarily forgotten about Sassa. Despite her wounded shoulder, her aim had not been lost. With a hiss of a cry, Bjorn flinched as the flat river stone connected with the back of his head.

Alone once more, she slipped back into the warm comfort of the murky water. Yet another thing she could, and would, hold over his head…

* * *

It was only two days later that Sassa discovered another pair of uninvited eyes. Hunting in the forest, her eyes fell to the bottom of a steep embankment at a hulking figure. Hidden amongst the trees, she allowed herself to observe him as he passed below. It was clearly a man given the frame. As tall as her father but of broader width, he was covered in a coat of white furs. His thick hood was lowered to cover his face but did little to conceal the blonde hair that escaped it. His head turned this way and that way every few feet. He was clearly looking for something.

Or someone…

Sassa's eyes narrowed suspiciously. There was only one known home this deep in the woods, known for the reason he was quickly discovering first hand. It was near impossible to find.

She slunk from the branch, the sound of her light body hitting the ground catching his attention and putting him on guard. He turned, clearly searching for the source of the sound that seemed to close, but found nothing but the faint falling snow and the rustling of the peaceful forest around him. Sassa side was once more on her side. She ducked low, crouching and crawling until she had the higher ground once more. She knotted the arrow, standing tall and proud as he looked the other direction. When she was ready, she put her foot on a fallen branch before her, steadily apply pressure until it folded.

The breaking branch cracked through the air. The figure turned, freezing at the sight of the girl with the bow and arrow standing at the top of the embankment above him. Though her sex and size may be misleading, the cold and almost disinterest look to her left him with no doubt she would fire.

"Sassa?" Her name slipped through his lips. Her grip tightened in preparation. There were so few friends left... "Sassa, it is me." He slowly raised his hands in surrender. Her only change of expression was the slight glint of warning in her green eyes. He pushed the hood from his face, revealing tan skin stretched over a ruggedly handsome face. A blond beard and pale scars covered his lower jaw.

She quickly recognized him as one of the men that had left raiding with her father.

Torstein. A trusted friend… for now.

"Is it true he's here?" His voice was hopeful yet wary, as if afraid to know the answer should he be the wrong one.

Sassa gave no response. And for one brief suffocating moment, the only movement in the forest was the the light flurry of falling snow around them.

Torstein felt his face fall, his chest constrict at the idea of his fear coming true. His mouth opened to curse when she gave a single nod of her head.

Turning, she lowered her weapon and led him towards the home. Her slight figure graceful and at ease over the uneven hills and thick bush, unlike Torstein hulking, tripping figure. She never paused, expecting the man to keep up as she walked and jumped over obstacles with the ease of a someone who knew the area by heart.

The brush and trees thinned out till they came to a clearing by the shore. Torstein smiled, seeing the boy, greeting him quickly and merrily. Bjorn looked at him in a quick glance, as if afraid to let his eyes linger in their direction. He gave a low hello and smile, but then turning his attention back to the wood he cut.

"How is he?" The giant of the man asked the girl as they walked into the darker, but much warmer, home.

"He's still weak but his wounds are beginning to heal, thanks to Floki's magic."

Torstein turned to the voice, speaking no words as he encased Lagertha in a tight hug. "You're alright?" Sassa paid them no mind as she took the rabbit offered without hesitance or shame. Every bit of meat was now needed to feed the eight bodies who lived there. She settling by the warm fire, sharpening her knife to begin skinning.

"We all are." Lagertha gave a now rare smile.

Floki, bent at the fire making soup, looked at the commotion behind him. "Torstein!" He raised to his feet, wonder and glee clear in his voice. A wheezing cough sounded from the other side of the fire pit. Floki and Torstein's attention were stolen. "Ragnar, see who is here!" He led the viking to their prone friend.

Floki, bent at the fire and making soup, looks up and rises to greet their friend. "Torstein." he says in wonder and glee. He takes the rabbit offered, every bit of meat a great help for the eight bodies who live there. "Ragnar, see who's here."

"Ragnar, my friend, how are you?" Torstein crouched beside him. The farmer was wrapped in blankets, cocooned and rendered nearly immobile in his bed.

"Save me from these people." He joked, wheezing a laugh before flinching in pain. "How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't." Torstein admitted. "I only know Earl Haraldson is looking for you. It was Rollo who said that if you're alive, you might be here."

"Then why did he not come himself?" The hurt in his voice was clear as Ragnar asked.

"Because he thought the Earl's men would be looking for him especially." Torstein turned to the other adults in the room. "It is no secret that all of the crew are being watched." He smirked at the children. "But I made sure no-one followed me."

Gyda flushed a bit under the handsome man's attention while Sassa and Bjorn unknowingly shared an eye roll. Bjorn at being treated like a child. Sassa at the fact her help had been overlooked once more.

"Let's eat." Floki said, picking up the bowls Gyda brought him.

"It is good to see you." said Ragnar.

"You too, my friend." Torstein clasped his hand in firm greeting, glad beyond measure he was still alive. Ragnar coughed and looked towards the ceiling, dismissing him to eat as he rested more. Standing at his full height, Torstein nearly collided with a form suddenly behind him.

He was struck by the sight of the golden haired beauty. His mouth hanging open without thought or words as he stared at her. She came to just below his shoulder, her frame slighter than that of Lagertha, but undoubtedly feminine all the same. She had fair features, and large eyes lined with coal. He was smitten at once.

Helga gave a graceful, almost coy smile. She, along with the rest, waited for him to speak. Torstein could still form no words.

"This is Helga." Floki put him out of his misery, the introduction innocent.

"H-Hello Helga." He greeted breathily, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Ohhh." Floki moaned amused. It drew the mountain-of-a-man's attention, finally breaking his enchantment. "Don't wiggle your maggot in her face." Floki moved his slim pinky in his face with annoyance, the implication clear. "She's taken." He pushed the bowl of soup towards his friend.

Torstein held it carefully, not knowing if he was still welcome. "Sit down." Floki ordered, making the choice for him. The giant did as he was told, sitting across from the beauty with a now amused smile on her face.

Across the home, Athelstan and Lagertha shared amused looks of their own.

Their happiness and ease was short lived.

"I heard they burned down your farm." He quietly spoke.

Lagertha tensed, her back straightening as she gripped the bowl in her hands tighter. "They also slaughtered all our livestock." She felt that wave of dread settle in her stomach as she painfully admitted the truth. "We have nothing left."

"You are alive." Floki reminded her of the little good they have left. "Ragnar is alive. The children are alive…"

"You're welcome." Sassa snidely commented to Bjorn. She gave him a cold look, uncaring that his own glare heated along with his ears. It was one of the few times he dare make eye contact with her since finding her in the springs. Even that was short lived as he cast his gaze away from her once more.

"You have everything left." Her father assured.

"We also need to eat." Lagertha reasoned. She walked over to the fire they all gathered at, regret and apology in her tone. "And we are already eating some of your winter supplies, Floki."

She looked to the rabbit in Sassa's hands, thinking how quickly they had gone through the bountiful catch Sassa had caught when they first arrived. "I am ashamed." She touched the father's back in a friendly gesture, truly remorseful of the trouble the simple-loving family was going through for them.

Their family took food mostly from trade, rather than farm, but with their bloodlines under close watch they had been all but banished from the village. With Ragnar needing to be looked after, it left most of the hunting to Floki and Sassa. Lagertha turned to the girl, blood on her hands as she slid the knife easily under the rabbit's hide. Correction: it left Sassa to do the hunting. And that made Lagertha feeling even more guilt. It seemed their debt to the girl would never be paid.

"The gods will provide." Floki promised. A giggle of laughter escaping as Lagertha smiled. Hopefully. "And if not Sassa will."

Her green eyes narrowed as she scoffed, ripping the fur from the rabbit's legs as she did. She set the pelt aside, green eyes rolling at the idea.

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die." Athelstan said.

Floki giggled, amused at the Christian's words. Athelstan frowned a bit, embarrassed. Floki got up and handed him a bowl. "Just eat your soup, priest."

But across the home Ragnar spoke from the bed. "Sometimes your God sounds a lot like one of ours." He reassured. He had remembered those words in his haze of near death. The priest had begged his god that he not die, and for that Ragnar was silently grateful. Athelstan smiled, a small nod exchanged between them. Not one of master and slave. But one of understanding and gratefulness. Dare he say….friends.

* * *

The snow had left, a cold, hail filled rain taking it's place in the night. Outside: owls hooted and winds howled. Inside: the fire cackled and warmed its overpopulated occupance. Cuddled close to the source of heat, Lagertha slept peacefully with her children. Athelstan was in an equal state not far away.

But slumber did not come easy for all.

As it did every night, Ragnar's mind raced and twisted, his thoughts so loud he could not sleep. So loud, they fought to escape his mouth. This time, with someone to listen, he didn't bother trying to stifle them.

Torstein leaned against the bed, watching the flames dance as he relaxed with a belly full of warm broth and good ale. The quiet was broken by the husky whisper of the man behind him.

"Why did the gods keep me alive? That is the question I keep asking myself." Ragnar mused, his head turned to stare into the fire as well. Their voices stayed low, trying not to wake the others.

"What are you going to do?"

"I can do nothing until I am well." Ragnar admitted, bitter about that fact. Oh, how it burned him inside being restrained to the bed. His eyes closed on their own accord. He could smell the ocean so close to the home, the air carrying the scent of salt and wood, till he could picture it in his dreams. His eyes quickly opened, his question almost eagerly desperate. "Where's the boat?"

Torstein chest gave a heavy groan, a rumbling of anger and disappointment. "Haraldson has confiscated the boat." His face twisted in disgust. "His daughter is getting married to man from Svealand. The boat is her dowry." It was just like the Earl to take from them and give as if it was his right. There was no honor to it. An insult atop a insult.

Sensing the change in tone, Ragnar was the one to offer comfort this time. "Floki can always build us another one."

"And the Earl?" Torstein turned to look into his eyes. There was doubt, a heavy threat unspoken between them.

As long as Earl Haraldson lived, they were all mice to be stomped on and thrown away at his command.

Ragnar did not answer, his mind twisting into a new path of restless thought as they were interrupted.

"Pssst." A voice hissed. Floki bent before them, his gaze focused on that of Torstein. "Come on." He nodded his head, tempting him to follow.

"What for?" He asked.

"Come." Floki's face stretched into a devious smile, nodding once more but still not explaining.

Torstein may be a friend but he was not a fool. He knew of Floki's quickly chancing temper and how… interesting her could be. He was secretly a bit afraid to follow.

When no man moved, a younger voice intervene. "They want to have sex with you."

Sassa sat beside the larger man, a small bowl of soup in hand as she waited for him to move along. Torstein looked from the father to the daughter, caught of guard by her interruption.

"If you don't come now, I promise, you will regret it." A glimmer of mischief entered Floki's eyes.

Behind him, Helga poked her face out from behind the curtain, her fairy like features lighting in a innocent yet hypnotic smile.

Torstein looked to Sassa, as if looking for permission. Sassa pushed him with her small hand, sending him off as she slid into the warm spot before the fire.

As Helga led Torstein into the bed, Floki closed the curtains.

Ragnar and Sassa were left alone.

"What do you know of sex?" He challenged her, a mixture of amusement and suspicion coating his tone.

"Enough." Was all she said on the subject. She passed him the bowl of soup, knowing he would need it to help regain his strength.

Ragnar took it but did not eat it. "Has your father been hiding you for good reason?" He joked. His lips flinched in that teasing smile he alone kept. He could easily imagine Floki chasing off the boys that would one day come for her. The boatbuilder had grown too attached, too dependent, on his daughter. His huntress. His assistant. His only living blood.

"I am not pretty enough for you to worry." She dismissed the notion.

She was indeed of wedding age, yet she received no offers. Her father's reputation for madness reached far and wide. If she was indeed barren, it was unlikely her father would allow a divorce. What man would chain himself to a future without heirs and legacy? In her experience, none.

Ragnar laughed as hard as his broken body would allow. "You are beautiful, dear Sassa." He spoke boldly and without hesitance.

She frowned, thinking him teasing her further. "My chest is flat and my hips are slim." She dismissed. Her elegant fingers, calloused with years of work, folded in her lap. She looked down at her nimble fingers, her gaze catching that of her lap and hips. Even now they looked rather narrow. Sassa looked away staring into the fire, and the womanly form of Lagertha past it.

_Poor breeding_ , she once overheard. That's what she'd been reduced to. Breeding stock, and not even one worth buying. It hurt her more than she'd ever let them know.

She felt a gentle touch on her face, bringing her out of her rare shell as she looked to Ragnar. His hand caressed the skin from the edge of her green eyes down the curve of her cheek and following the strong line of her jaw, lingering at a moment to raise her chin up. "You have such a lovely face." he admitted. His hand dropped, a hint of a smile reaching her lips.

Such a serious child, Ragnar mused in his head. She reminded him of the ravens. Beautiful, dark, with little expression unless truly close enough. "They are not worthy of you." Not her pretty face, or her great loyalty to her father, or her bravery in protecting his son, or her skill with a bow. She would make an excellent wife, mother, warrior. She was a raven with so many places to fly. If only she was released from this cage.

At that moment, Ragnar made a decision. On his next raid, he would take her with them. He would release her to see how far she could fly.

Sassa dared a rare wide smile. "I see why your wife puts up with you. You can be quite charming." she ended with a smirk.

Ragnar laughed. "Tell her that, eh?" He falsely pleaded.

"Im off to check the fishing line." She pushed herself to her feet. "Eat" she commanded.

Ragnar nodded in thanks for the bowl of soup, knowing full well it was the last of it. He took a spoonful of the still warm broth, nearly spitting it out when he saw her foot connect with Bjorn's motionless leg in her path. The boy gave a disgruntled huff, when she kicked him to move, sleepy eyes narrowing as his heavy head raised to glare at her before falling back on the blanket his head rested on. The hint of childness appeared every now and then when they were together. Ragnar chuckled to himself but reduced it to an observing smile. His son rose a bit once more, watching her as she walked away, a silent exchange seemingly passing between them. Maybe Floki would have trouble sooner than they thought.


End file.
